Sing Together
by reallybodmin
Summary: Luk, the new vicar, is back in this sequel to Martin and Louisa at the Font. Please read that story first.
1. Chapter 1

Sing Together

**Author's note: Luk, the new vicar is back in this sequel to Martin and Louisa at the Font. How is our Doc faring as a newlywed?**

**Doc Martin and recognizable characters belong to Buffalo Pictures. This is a work of fiction and for entertainment only. No copyright infringement intended.**

Chapter One

"Finally," whispered Louisa in a groan as she lay back down on the bed. What a night, she thought. Poor James Henry. Don't know what made him so gassy last night. Martin seems to think he is fine though, thank goodness. He says babies just do this from time to time and I am not to worry. That's hard though when James is crying and crying and nothing seems to make it stop.

Martin and Louisa had been taking turns walking him up and down all night long trying to soothe him. Finally after a brief sleep, Martin had gotten up at his customary hour and began to prepare some breakfast. Louisa had been rocking James at that point and had indicated with hand motions that she was going back to bed for a while if the baby fell back asleep.

This was fine with Martin. He loved Louisa and James Henry but he craved time alone as well. That was one of the most difficult parts of being married, he had found. Carving out time for himself, when he could do just what he wanted, was nigh on to impossible. So on the occasional day that he had some time to himself, he tried to take full advantage. He prepared his breakfast meticulously and sat down to eat. Shortly he heard Louisa stop rocking and assumed, since he heard no more crying, that James had settled and that she would be going back to bed.

Thankfully, he did not have surgery hours this morning. Since his marriage, he had made arrangements with the GP in Wadebridge to trade off Saturday mornings. Every other Saturday, they took each other's calls and Morwenna made no appointments. Morwenna loved the arrangement as well, since it meant at least two Saturdays per month when she could get up late. It made for some busy days, but it was worth it to Martin and Louisa. Even if he occasionally had to help someone on Sunday, it was still nice to have a whole weekend twice per month.

This morning though, Martin could not understand how Louisa could just lie back down when the sun was fully up and the day starting. He tried to keep to his habits as much as possible and he felt that getting up and around at his usual hour was better for his overall health. He went down the hallway to the consulting room, went in and opened a window and took a deep breath. Nice day for a change, he thought. It is finally getting a bit warmer. We can get outside for a while today.

He took down his latest clock. It was another of his grandfather's which Aunt Ruth had found in her continuous cleaning out of Joan's home. This one was lovely, walnut with sterling silver around the clock face. Martin could not remember in which room his grandfather had kept it and neither could Ruth. She had confided to Martin once that she had intentionally blanked out of her memory many rooms from her childhood home. Too much pain and sadness. He sighed for a moment, lost in a reverie, but quickly brought his mind back to the task at hand, unrolled his tools and began to work.

Louisa tried to doze. She knew that today would be the only day for having a lie-in this weekend. She had promised Natalie, the new chemist and the vicar's wife, that she would bring some refreshments to the church the next morning for a Bible study class that Natalie was teaching for some of the older ladies in the village. That reminds me, she thought, I need to run out later and get some things to make biscuits or maybe I'll just go and see Ted for croissants. I'll phone Natalie later and ask her which would be best, she thought as she closed her eyes.

She tried to blank her mind so that she could go back to sleep, but the noise of the gulls kept her awake. She left her eyes closed and let her mind wander a bit. Much as she loved Martin, some of his habits grated on her nerves so badly. Why would he get up at such an early hour when he didn't have to? She would have liked to have him here beside her. She loved feeling his strength and just his presence. He was always so methodical though.

Oops, not _always_, she thought. Just a lot. She had to stop using that word so much in her thoughts. _Never_, too. When she and Martin had gone through their "marriage book" with Luk, this was one of the topics that came up. _Always_ and _never_ aren't good words to use when communicating with those we love, the book had stressed. Anyway, very few people _always_ do things or _never_ do things. Even our most ingrained habits aren't usually that extreme, the book had continued. So, those two words are best left out when talking with, or even thinking about, our mates.

Easier said than done, Louisa thought. With someone who was as much a perfectionist as Martin, _never_ and _always_ seemed to be pretty descriptive, she thought. Still, it wasn't true that Martin _never_ had a lie-in. She smiled as she remembered a Saturday about a month ago. James had slept longer than usual and, when she awoke, Martin had been watching her with that "almost smile" of his. His eyes wrinkled on the sides and one side of his mouth slightly lifted in that look that she loved to see. He had leaned over to kiss her and that had been the start of a lovely morning.

Come to think of it, she thought, maybe I could convince him to stop playing with his clock. She opened her eyes, trying to get accustomed to the bright sun streaming through the window. Dental hygiene might help, she thought laughingly, and went in to quietly brush her teeth. Maybe a change of attire as well. She quickly took off her pyjamas and put on just her dressing gown. When Martin got going on a clock, he could take a lot of convincing to stop.


	2. Chapter 2

**Again, this is a work of fiction and no copyright infringement intended. All recognizable characters belong to Buffalo pictures.**

**Reviews appreciated!**

Chapter 2

After a quick dab of perfume, Louisa tiptoed down the stairs and into the doorway of the consulting room. She stopped at the threshold and looked over at Martin. He had such a gift of concentration. I guess that is one of the reasons he is such a brilliant surgeon and terrific GP, she thought. He had to pay close attention to so many little details. It would drive me mad, she thought. She continued to watch Martin as the sun fell soft on his short hair and the dust motes floated lazily in the air. No wonder he tells people to shut up so often. He has to be able to concentrate and even I have trouble with that when some of the parents start chatting.

So often friends in the village who were, of course, also patients, asked her to please, please get the Doc to be nice. Can't you make him less grumpy, less likely to tell us to shut up, get him to be less, well, obnoxious, Louisa? Sometimes it was hard to be his wife. Lots of times it was hard, she thought. But they didn't know all of the things she knew. All of the walls he had built so high to be able to survive. She knew though, that they were slowly lowering. It was hard work, but worth it. Being married to Martin was like mining for gold. You just knew the vein was there, you caught glimpses, but you had to keep going to reach the reward.

Louisa cleared her throat softly. No reaction. Coughed a bit louder. No reaction. "Martin," she whispered. He looked up from the clock with a questioning look. "What is it Louisa?" he asked. "Shhh, Martin. Don't wake him. Can you come upstairs? I need your help with something."

"Whatever is it?" he questioned quietly. "We can't do anything up there that won't risk waking James and he really needs to rest. Children his age need at least ten to twelve hours of sleep."

"Still, Martin, I need you," Louisa said. "Won't you help me?"

"I…." Martin started to question her again but then stopped as she played with the neck of her dressing gown and he realized just what kind of help she needed. He swallowed. A fleeting wish for time alone crossed his mind quickly and then fled.

"Um, yes, um. I'll be right there," he said.

Louisa waited at the bottom of the stairs and held Martin's hand as they climbed toward their room. At the door she turned to him and began to remove his robe and pyjama top. He normally would have showered and put on a suit by now, even on a no-surgery weekend, but they had come to an agreement that he would wait to shower on those weekends until Louisa was fully awake.

Louisa tossed the clothing onto the floor, deliberately not looking at Martin's face because she knew he would want to pause and place the items carefully on a chair but she did not wish to stop. She didn't know how long James Henry would sleep and she was now urgently in need of the closeness she found only with Martin.

At the side of the bed, Martin removed the rest of his clothing, turned to her and removed her dressing gown. He drew in a sharp breath and gazed at her, marvelling as always at her lovely skin and how she seemed to almost glow in her anticipation. Slowly they kissed and lay down together. Martin ran his hands through her hair and then down her back, as she kissed his neck and made a quiet purr of satisfaction.

Their kisses deepened as they tried to get as close as possible. Skin on skin. So wonderful. Two into one. Just the way life should be, Louisa thought. Martin, always attentive in lovemaking, slowed his pace and ran his fingers down Louisa's middle the way he knew she liked. She rubbed his chin, loving the bit of stubble she found there since he had not yet shaved.

They kissed again and both hearts sped up as Martin moved to love Louisa completely. He murmured her name in his velvet voice and she melted inside. Certainly here there was no problem with communicating. A perfect match. A melody sung in perfect harmony.

0000000

Later, they lay in each other's arms. "Louisa, much as I hate to say it," Martin said, "I think we had both better get up. I know the baby will awaken soon."

"Yes, Martin. You're right, but this was lovely, wasn't it - or did you miss your clock?" she teased.

"Um, no. The clock can wait."


	3. Chapter 3

Again, all belongs to Buffalo Pictures. No copyright infringement intended. For entertainment only.

Chapter 3

Directly after lunch, Martin and Louisa decided to take James Henry out in his buggy for a trip to the greengrocer's. "Martin, I could use some mouthwash and a few other things. Could we stop in at the chemist's too?" asked Louisa.

"No doubt you want a 'chinwag' with Natalie too," Martin returned in a surprisingly teasing tone.

"Well, yes, but I won't be long, I promise. I do need to ask her something about tomorrow. For now James is being great, but he will probably want to move around soon and will want out of this contraption."

"That's fine. I will come in too and pick up a few things for the surgery. Saves me a trip on Monday," Martin replied.

As they got closer to the little shop, they began to hear music. Closer still, they saw a small crowd of villagers and even some tourists gathered around the door of the store. Martin, thinking of what would surely end up being a session of surgery, attempted to hurry Louisa on to the greengrocer's. "Perhaps I can take the groceries home and James as well, and you can go and see Natalie yourself afterward," he said.

Antisocial Martin arrives again, Louisa thought. She tried to make her face bland and her voice non-threatening as she said, "Martin, please. Let's stop. I think I know what this is. I think it is Luk and Roger Fenn along with some of the youth. I heard them saying something a few weeks ago about street singing to raise money for the lifeboat fund. Please let's listen. Just for a moment. After all, Roger and Luk are your, um, your friends, right?"

Martin took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. "If you wish," he said, ignoring the question. "But if anyone starts nattering on about a health problem, YOU have to be the one to stop it." This had been another thing they had talked about in their sessions with Luk. Martin was so resentful of the fact that, in a village this size, no one seemed to respect his privacy. Wherever he went, villagers just assumed he wouldn't mind a question or two, or "just a quick look" and he absolutely detested it. So, thinking along with Luk, they had come up with a compromise. Martin would shut it, and Louisa would gently interrupt, make a little joke about private time, and suggest they make an appointment.

Luk had confidence that if they tried this for long enough, eventually the villagers would get the idea and most of the interruptions would stop. So far, they had both agreed that it had, indeed, seemed to slow down some of the interference, but not all. Louisa still had work to do, and it wasn't always easy. Villagers could be very persistent. But Louisa kept her hope alive and Martin did see a few people when he could sense the necessity.

However, he was still very uncomfortable with the amount of interaction which Louisa seemed to thrive on. He knew it was important to her to be with and talk to all of these people she basically considered to be her extended family, but it made no sense to him. And the rubbish talk! But he tried to at least seem interested even if he did not join in on the conversation.

Martin remembered an occasion only about a month after their marriage, Louisa had come home with tears in her eyes. He had asked what was wrong, fearing she was not feeling well, and she had attempted to brush him off. He had persisted, however, since he had not often seen her in tears since the marriage. She had finally told him that she had overheard two of her staff talking before she had left theschool. Something they said had hurt her feelings, she said.

"What was it?" Martin had questioned. Louisa had turned away. Martin walked around to face her. "What did they say?" he repeated.

"They said… they said that they wished things were the way they used to be when I could go out with them to the pub on Friday evenings."

"I don't understand," Martin had said.

"Martin, I don't want to talk about this. It will hurt you," she had answered.

"Louisa, what was said? I doubt seriously it will hurt my feelings."

"Martin, they said that they didn't want to ask me because I would want you to come along and they didn't want you because you are so anti-social," she said softly. "Martin, I'm sorry but you insisted I tell you," Louisa had said.

"Louisa, we have discussed this. You know that I don't care for small talk. You can feel free to go without me to gatherings like this. As long as we arrange it ahead, I don't mind. I can stay with James, leaving you free to go, and when he goes to sleep I can work on a clock or read. It is the perfect solution," Martin had said.

"Martin, it's not ALWAYS the perfect solution. I don't mind doing that sometimes, but I married you because I want to be with you. And I don't want to go out with my friends and their husbands without my husband. It's okay Martin, really it is, but it just got to me today for some reason," Louisa said.

Martin paused for thought. He really did hate occasions like the ones Louisa was discussing. He could bear it when it was Luk and Natalie for he found himself drawn to the intellect and quiet of the vicar, but the villagers, well, that was another matter. However, he had made promises. And Martin took promises very seriously.

"Louisa, perhaps we can find a way. If you are willing to go by yourself when you are asked and you want to go, I promise to go with you and attempt to participate when you initiate the invitation. That way you can tell me ahead of time who you are thinking of asking and where you want to go and I can adjust my 'thinking' accordingly."

Louisa had jumped off the couch and thrown her arms around him. Her beautiful smile lit up her face and the tears stopped as she leaned back and looked up at him. "Martin, you will really do that for me?" she asked.

"Yes Louisa, I will. I won't be the most talkative person in the room you know. But I will try to keep the sneer off of my face."

"Thank you Martin. Really. Thank you."

Somewhere inside, a brick crumbled. A gleam of gold peeked through.


	4. Chapter 4

**Doc Martin and all recognizable characters belong to Buffalo Pictures. No copyright infringement intended. This is a work of fiction for entertainment only.**

**Reviews much appreciated!**

Chapter 4

As Martin and Louisa neared the small crowd, James Henry began to fuss a bit in the buggy. He liked moving about now and was curious about everything around him, particularly when he heard music. Anne often played music in her home and James Henry always began to wave his arms and babble when he heard it. Also, Louisa had a lovely voice and often sang to him in the evenings as they were preparing for bed.

The sounds of the crowd were too much for him and Louisa, smiling into his sweet face, lifted him carefully from the buggy. He struggled to see and babbled a bit. Louisa lightly put a finger to his mouth to try to shush him and, miraculously, he quieted. He turned himself around to Martin and stared. Louisa tapped Martin and he turned and saw James with his wide eyes looking straight into his own. Martin felt a leap of intense happiness and stared back at his son. There are certainly many different types of music, he thought.

After a moment he took James from Louisa and held him up higher, knowing that he would want to see the source of the melody he was hearing. They could hear Luk's guitar and his mellow voice, singing along with a few of the youth. When they came closer they could see Luk's daughter Emily bobbing up and down on the lap of one of the young girls, the one with ginger hair, whom Martin had sometimes seen giggling outside of the surgery. He frowned in thought. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen her much lately and when he did see her there, she just smiled. No more cries of "tosser" from her. Unfortunately he couldn't say the same for all of her friends.

Roger Fenn stood near to Luk with a table by his side. Framed pictures of the lifeboat crew were scattered on the table, along with a large glass jar almost full of bills and coins. Natalie stood in the doorway smiling and singing quietly along with her husband and the young people. Martin caught sight of Maureen and wondered where her twins might be.

Martin watched Luk's face as he played and sang. Somehow, he led but stayed in the background. His voice with its rounded Belgian accent was the steady note under the others but he did not drown them out. Martin preferred classical music, but he knew that Louisa loved all kinds of music and was not surprised when she smiled and began to mouth the words of the song along with the youth. It was a song he had heard her play on her computer sometimes as she exercised indoors when the weather was bad during the winter months.

Martin's thoughts returned to Louisa's earlier question. Were Luk and Roger his friends? He guessed he would say that Roger was a friend in a way. But Luk, was Luk a friend? They had had lunch at the pub about every six weeks since the wedding and of course there were the meetings with Luk to go through the marriage book. Martin had balked at what he thought would surely be evenings filled with what he thought of as "psycho-babble," but Louisa had insisted that they go after all of their promises to Luk before the wedding.

Aunt Ruth had chimed in as well, telling Martin that many of her colleagues strongly recommended these sessions to clients before they married. Martin went to the meetings, reluctantly at first, but when he realized that Luk had no intention of any of the "babbling," but only wanted to go through a book which was mostly about communicating, he dreaded the evenings less than before. Toward the end of the book there was a section about growing in faith together during a marriage and that part had nearly done him in. Mostly Martin had sat silently throughout those last two sessions, but Luk had not pushed him, and Martin HAD read the entire book.

Now, as the music continued in the background, he thought about the lunches he had been having with Luk. Their lunches had always been at Luk's invitation of course, but Martin found he had actually begun to look forward to his conversations with the vicar. For one thing, there was not a constant stream of conversation, but there were quiet spaces as well.

For another, Martin was sure that he detected within Luk a need for this "whatever" - was it friendship? He supposed it was. He didn't have much experience with anyone needing him as a friend, unless it was for help to pass a class or to stand in front of them so that the teacher couldn't see what they were doing behind his tall back. Why would he need me, Martin questioned himself.

They often discussed the books that they were reading and Luk always seemed genuinely interested in the medical topics that Martin invariably talked about. Luk, for his part, would tell Martin about some new theological question he was considering when he would read some new scholarly book or article. Luk also enjoyed fiction and was, as to be expected, quite an accomplished storyteller. He had even coaxed a few mild chuckles from the taciturn Martin.

At their last lunch, Luk had informed Martin that he was beginning preparations to take some of the youth to Tanzania the next summer for a mission trip. He asked Martin if he would be at all interested in coming along to offer free medical assistance. Martin politely refused but offered to have Chris Parsons contact Luk to discuss finding a doctor for the trip. Martin found the vicar a most intriguing person. Always quick to pray, quick to laugh, quick to love, but never pushy or rude in his convictions.

Natalie, too, had become very important in the Ellingham household. She and Louisa had become great friends, having children the same age with the same caregiver. Both women also enjoyed their careers very much and Martin had surprised himself by complimenting Natalie to Louisa on more than one occasion. Louisa had even gone through some of her oldest boxes and found an old Bible that Bert had given her years ago and started reading from some of the Psalms at night, on recommendation from Natalie.

Yes, he supposed they had made friends with both Luk and Natalie and, if he was honest with himself, he knew he probably hadn't contributed as much as he should have. And the contact did make a positive difference in his life. He would have to try and figure out some way to change that. Perhaps he could begin by being the one to extend the next lunch invitation. Yes, he thought, that is the best idea.


	5. Chapter 5

**Again, Doc Martin and all recognizable characters belong to Buffalo Pictures. No copyright infringement intended. The song "Sing Together" belongs to the group Train and, again, no copyright infringement is intended. This is a work of fiction for entertainment only.**

**Author's Note: If you haven't heard Train's song "Sing Together," give it a listen. Feel free to imagine Roger singing it if you want!**

Chapter 5

Martin brought his attention back to the present. The crowd was clapping and several people were beginning to move away. Others stepped forward to place money in the jar. Now that there was more room, Louisa and Martin moved closer to the front. James Henry caught sight of Emily and gave a squeal. The Ellinghams were closer to Luk now and he nodded his head and smiled in recognition.

"Your attention, your attention please," said Roger. "It's time for the last song. Luk has kindly asked for me to croak this one out but, if you know it, please sing along with me." He looked at Martin and raised his brows. "And this one, I have just decided, is going to be in honor of someone we all know." He smiled at Louisa. "As Luk would have me say, this one is to the glory of God and in honor of Doctor Martin Ellingham. Our caregiver extraordinaire. I probably wouldn't be here to sing today if it weren't for your stubbornness Martin and so I thank you." He gave a slight bow toward Martin.

Martin reddened. He couldn't believe this. All he had wanted to do was go to the greengrocer's! Now this. After all of the times he had been singled out for one joke or another at school or some insignificant problem at home, he could not tolerate being called out this way. How could he get out of here? But Louisa looked up at him and smiled and laid her hand on his arm. She nodded her head slightly. He stilled inside. He nodded at Roger and Luk began to play.

Roger sang,

"If I go before I say

To everyone in my ballet

Let me take this chance

To thank you for the dance.

If I run out of songs to sing

To take your mind off everything

Just smile

Sit a while

With the sun on your face and remember the place we met

Take a breath and soon I bet you'll see

Without you I would never be me

You are the leaves of my family tree

Sing together

If you knew me from the very start

Or we met last week at the grocery mart

Just sing together

It's the least that I can do

My final gift to you"

Here Roger motioned to the crowd to help and many who knew the song took up the simple refrain, singing with him,

"Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh,

Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

Oooooooh

When I pass the pearly gate

I will find some real estate

We can settle down

Watch the world go round

Send down all the love we got

And let them know we got a spot

For them to be

And its all free

The sun on your face

And remember the place we met

Take a breath and soon I bet you'll see

Without you I would never be me

You are the leaves of my family tree

Sing together

If you knew me from the very start

Or not at all

You're still a part

Just sing together

It's the least that I can do

My final gift to you

Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

Ooooooh"

Roger and Luk kept this last chorus going for a few more repeats until nearly everyone had joined in, then Roger began motioning for them to sing more quietly until all of the notes floated away, one by one, in the breezy coastal air. The sun kept shining and James Henry, tiny as he was, felt something small break inside of his daddy and a glimmer of light shone out that only a little one could see.


	6. Chapter 6

**Doc Martin and all recognizable characters belong to Buffalo Pictures and no copyright infringement is intended. This is a work of fiction and for entertainment only.**

Chapter 6

Louisa clapped louder than anyone, although she had a lot of competition, at the end of the song. She reached down and squeezed Martin's arm as he was using both hands to balance James Henry. Martin was entirely unsure of what to do. Fortunately for him, PC Penhale came along at just that moment and began motioning the crowd away from the table. Louisa heard Chippie Miller say, "Mad! Probably thinks someone is going to run away with the jar and it sitting right in front of the vicar's nose. That Joe is really an idiot sometimes," but she knew that Martin was probably glad to see Joe for once. Louisa reached up to take the baby.

Martin composed himself and cleared his throat as Roger and Luk walked toward him. Luk patted Roger on the back and said, "I couldn't have written out a better dedication, Roger. That was great," he smiled and stuck out his hand to shake Martin's. Martin shook hands with Luk and then Roger. "Hope I didn't embarrass you too much mate. But that had to be said. You saved my life you miserable bugger, thanks" Roger laughed.

"You're welcome, Roger and thank you. Thank you both," Martin said. Louisa, sensing that this would be awkward for Martin, came over and gave James Henry back to Martin and the three men began to talk to the baby - Luk and Roger talked. Martin nodded.

Louisa went over and put a bill into the jar and then stepped into the cool shade of the chemist's shop and gave Natalie a hug. "Wasn't that great Louisa?" asked Natalie. "Wow, yes," Louisa replied, "although things like that seem to always embarrass Martin so much. I think he was picked on so much as a boy that any attention like that is hard for him."

"Oh, I hope he'll be okay. It is so hard to imagine him being picked on. I mean he's so…. oh I don't know…. it's just hard to imagine, although the smartest are often picked on I guess," Natalie said. "Roger has told Luk and I both how Martin stepped in and forced him to pay attention to his health when he would have let things go and probably have no voice, or maybe not even be here. I think Martin is a bit of a hero to Roger. And to a lot of the villagers."

"Well, maybe hearing that today will help to convince him. Most of them drive him mad and I believe that he sometimes wants to drive them mad too. From listening to my friends, I'd say he does - drive them mad I mean - but after this, maybe not so much as I thought. That was an awful lot of applause."

Maureen walked up and gave Louisa a hug. Louisa hugged her back and began to speak. "Maureen, if I don't get to see him, please tell Roger, well, tell him thanks from me. Martin may not express his gratitude properly but I know he appreciated this and I can't begin to tell you how much I did."

"Louisa, Roger and I both feel that way about the Doc. He watched me so well while I was pregnant with the twins, even if he is a grumpy git," she laughed, "and Roger…. well, who knows what would have happened to him? One song is small repayment," Maureen said.

"Well, what a song! So much meaning in something that sounds so simple," Natalie added. "I love Train. They have some really great songs."

"I agree," Louisa added, "although I hadn't heard this one. 'Sing Together' it's called?"

"Yes," Natalie answered.

"I think I will go home and look it up on the computer. Sounds like a good one to buy. And I want to get all those words into my head," Louisa said. "I love how it talks about being leaves of the family tree. Great image for us here in the village isn't it?" She paused, " Well, to change the subject, which would be better for the morning Natalie - croissants or biscuits?"

"Oooh some of Ted's yummy croissants would be great," Natalie replied. "He makes them just like they do in France. Some pain au chocolat too maybe?"

"Got it," Louisa said. "Well, thanks again you two. We need to be on our way to the grocers and then get the little guy home so that he can crawl around a bit."

"Bye, Louisa. See you in the morning," Natalie called as Maureen gave a wave.

Louisa, Martin and James Henry started off for the grocer's. Martin pushed the buggy but Louisa continued to hold James. He struggled to get down but Louisa held on tight, knowing better than to let him down because Martin might start banging on about germs at any moment as she sensed his emotions were running high at the moment. She had been trying to give him more quiet time when he was like this, hard as it was for her. She wanted to talk to him, get him to open up about how he felt to have a song dedicated especially to him by a very grateful patient, but knew he would not welcome the intrusion into his thoughts at the moment.

They completed their purchases quickly, put James back down in the buggy with a small biscuit to munch and went straight home. No interruptions happened this time, as anyone watching them could tell by the Doc's straight back and intense stare that he wouldn't want to be bothered.

As they neared the surgery door, Louisa paused, and, once he noticed, Martin did as well. "Martin, I know that was probably difficult for you today but I think you are going to have to accept that, like it or not, some of these people around here really do appreciate you," Louisa said.

"Uh," Martin grunted as he grabbed the buggy once again and moved on toward the door.

Louisa asked Martin to sit with James Henry as she began to gather some laundry. She also decided to make a call to Ted so that he would have extra croissants and pain au chocolat for her in the morning.

Martin sat James in his baby seat and began to stack some blocks. He still wasn't used to sitting on the floor with his son and was starting to believe he was going to have to buy some more casual clothing. Louisa had tried already to get him to purchase some but so far he had resisted. But perhaps a polo shirt and some microfiber slacks might do. At least the fabric would probably bear up well on the hardwood floors and rugs in the surgery.

"Martin," Louisa said from the kitchen. "James certainly enjoyed the music today. Why don't you find one of his toys that has music and get it going for him?" Not now, Martin thought. I just need some quiet. Always noise. Always…..well, not really_ always_ but an awful lot. He reached into the small toy bin that Louisa had put near the couch and found a toy clock that played a different song for each hour. Aunt Ruth had found it on one of her trips to London and purchased it for James.

Martin pushed the button and held up the clock for James who immediately grinned and reached for the toy. The music tinkled out and James squealed a bit. Then, as the song continued, he put the toy into his mouth and began to suck on it. Disgusting, Martin thought, but I know this is normal behavior. It will help to build his immune system but I can hardly bear it! How many bacteria is he ingesting at this very moment? Ugh. He turned away but quickly turned back. James had dropped the toy and was grunting because he wanted it back.

It went against all of his own instincts, but he gave the toy back to James, remembering something that Louisa always said at times like this - five second rule. He had finally decided that it was probably reasonable and so would return things to James quickly if possible or, if not, would give them a wipedown first, which usually caused crying from the baby and a look of consternation from Louisa, but this was as far as he could go.

Louisa came in to sit with them after she talked to Ted and started a load of laundry. She watched Martin carefully when she didn't think he would notice. She knew his keen mind and soft heart would be hard at work trying to process what had happened today. He played with James, but only halfheartedly; it was obvious his mind was elsewhere.

"Louisa, are you cooking tonight or shall I?" Martin asked her suddenly. "I'll be glad to cook for us Martin, unless you just want to," Louisa answered.

"Well, if you don't mind, I want to look up something on the computer. I think I am going to have to purchase some of those microfiber trousers you had pointed out to me because I am going to ruin all of my suits on this floor. I'm sure I will be extremely uncomfortable but I can't ruin all of my suit trousers. And I do want to sit with James Henry."

Louisa smiled. She had hoped for this moment for a long time. She grew so weary of Martin in suits everywhere they went. But she knew that if she tried too hard, he would likely become obstinate. Carefully she said, "Well that certainly sounds like a good idea Martin. I know that you like your suits to be just right for work and it will be a while before James sits at at a table to play."

"Well, unless you have marking to do, I think I may as well get on with it then. If I order them today perhaps I will see them by the end of next week," Martin said.

"Good idea," Louisa replied. "And no, I have no marking to do now so you go through and take as much time as you like. I will play with my little man here."

Martin went through into the consulting room to use a laptop he had left on his desk to charge. When he booted up the computer, he went to the site which Louisa had pointed out to him once before. He looked through the choices of colors for microfiber pants and chose blue, gray, and black, and ordered 2 of each color. Then he went to another page which listed polo shirts and jumpers and chose several solid colors that would look well with the slacks. God, I hope I can stand to wear these things, he thought. He hesitated before pushing the "purchase" button but then clicked it and went back to the home screen.

His fingers lingered over the keyboard. What were the words? Rubbish, he thought. I don't need to spend valuable time on rubbish. But, before he knew it, his fingers began to type the words his sharp mind remembered from the afternoon - 'SING' space 'TOGETHER' and clicked the search button.

Several items came up almost immediately and he clicked on the one that said "Lyrics to Sing Together."

He began to read the words. Just a simple poem, he thought. Not much to it, really. A few rhymes. But then the words began to sink in, really sink in. A song about someone wanting to make sure, before he died, that those around him knew how important they were to him, that he considered them a part of his family, that he wouldn't be the man he was without them, and that he felt that they would somehow be together forever someday and it all brought him great joy.

Martin leaned forward and put his elbows on his desk and steepled his fingers in front of the screen. He thought about it again - the singer wanted his friends to know how important they were to him, that he wouldn't be who he was without them, that they were "leaves on his family tree, ….family tree."

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That night Martin went to bed and when Louisa came in, he rolled onto his side and put his arm around her waist, pulled her close and gently kissed her cheek. Then, to her complete amazement, Martin, who always slept on his back, fell sound asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**Doc Martin and all recognizable characters belong to Buffalo Pictures. This is a work of fiction and is for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Reviews appreciated.**

Chapter 7

When Martin and Louisa awoke the next morning, it was raining. Louisa knew that she must get to the church early, and had to stop by the bakery first. She asked Martin if he would bring James Henry in time for worship at eleven. Martin didn't really feel like being sociable, however he did want to ask Luk to have lunch the next day. Mondays were usually very busy and it would be a good day for a lunch break. After a small internal sigh, he agreed to the eleven o'clock time. He offered to drive Louisa since it was raining and this way they would have only one car to bring home. Also, the service tended to be fairly full lately and the parking lot for the church was small.

Martin got up and dressed and went down to prepare breakfast for himself and James Henry. Louisa dressed and decided not to eat since she would have the bakery items later. By the time she got ready, Martin was finished with breakfast except for the washing up, and he decided that could wait until he returned from taking Louisa. She chose an outfit for James Henry which Martin would put on him later. Martin then drove Louisa to the bakery and the church, helped her with the boxes of baked goods, and went back home.

He put James Henry into his high chair, as had become his custom when he was doing the washing up and was alone with the baby. No "escapes" that way, he thought. James normally liked sitting up high in the chair and was quite content as long as Martin talked to him occasionally. Today however, he was fussy and kept waving his hands around, squealing and babbling. Martin finally went in and found the musical clock and brought it to James. The baby's eyes lit up and he grabbed the clock before Martin could push the button. Martin gently reached over and put a finger on the switch and the clock began to spill out "The Grand Ol' Duke of York," in a music box style. Martin rolled his eyes at the thought of such a song being played in that way, but James seemed to like the tune. He squealed loudly and banged the clock onto the table of his high chair.

Martin, not enjoying such noises so early on a Sunday morning, finished the washing up as quickly as possible, then took James upstairs to get him dressed for the day. Louisa had chosen a cute outfit complete with a brown teddy bear embroidered on a pocket. James also had a navy blue coat with a matching hat which Martin thought he should use also, since it was raining and this generally made the church feel colder than it was outside.

When he was finished, he tucked James Henry into his car seat in the Lexus and made his way to the church for the second time that day. The rain had worsened and it was a very wet Martin who shielded the baby from the rain and into the church for worship. On the way to his customary pew, second to the back, Martin ran into Bert.

"Good mornin' Doc. How are ya?" Bert asked. "Quite well, Bert, except for all of this water pooling at my feet," Martin said sarcastically, for Bert was holding a closed umbrella in his hand, dripping water onto the stone floor.

"Oh, sorry Doc," Bert said and then proceeded to give the umbrella a vigorous shake, splashing even more water up onto Martin's trousers. "Well, there's that sorted then, Doc. Best take a seat," Bert said as he walked away, completely oblivious to the mess he had made.

What an idiot," Martin thought. He watched Bert walk away toward the pew where he usually sat. He had lost some weight after the heart attack but still not enough. Martin shook his head once in a gesture of disdain and sat down. He was glad he had put the coat on James because the church was indeed quite cool.

Louisa came in soon after and smiled as she saw the baby. She took him and held him close, talking to him about being at church and seeing his friend Emily soon. "Louisa, don't you think we should take him to the nursery? I think he is getting a bit old to be sitting through the whole service." "No Martin. I don't want to do that yet. I don't have enough time with him as it is. Natalie and I talked and we have decided to keep James and Emily both in with us for at least another month. I will take him outside if he starts to be a disturbance, I promise."

Martin answered with a grunt and began to look at the bulletin for the day. Nice, he thought. The choir would be singing the Rutter anthem sung at Prince William's wedding. One of the composer's best. "This Is The Day," was a beautiful song but he only hoped the small choir wouldn't butcher it. Although, he had to admit that there were a few really nice voices despite the group being composed of only about fifteen people.

The only reason he even knew about the song was because Pauline had insisted on watching the wedding. The song had caught his ear between patients and he had actually stopped work for a few minutes, stayed in the reception area where Pauline had brought in her small television, and listened. Rutter's pieces were notoriously hard to sing but some of the greatest choral works anywhere. Martin had lived and breathed Rutter during one year of school when his parents had made him sing in the choir because an acquaintance of theirs had a son in it and they were trying to make an impression. Martin had hated the singing, but loved Rutter's intricate melodies.

Martin still had a skeptic's mind about where God fit into his life. Did God fit in? Was God real? But he certainly had learned to appreciate the quiet times which Luk had built into the service. He sometimes felt that this was the only stillness in his whole life right now. And the new organist who had indeed moved to Portwenn from London was truly gifted. His preludes and the lovely pieces he played during the Eucharist were certainly moving.

Louisa, too, was trying to figure out what God really meant to her. Church attendance, when she was young, had been so sporadic, although when she _had_ attended she was always made to feel welcome. But, if she was honest, God had never seemed so real to her in her life as during this time. Somehow being around Natalie and Luk, getting involved in activities, and participating with the baby, and Martin when he came, brought a peace to her life that she hadn't felt before. Even when things were not going so well with Martin, worship centered her and kept her priorities in line.

When the service was nearly over, Martin decided that the anthem was fairly well done, and James Henry had cooperated well this week. He and Emily had sat on their mums' laps and had snacks and juice. When the postlude began and the cross taken out, Martin, as usual, began to try to move Louisa to the door as quickly as possible. Always at the service, it seemed, someone came up with an ailment to be diagnosed and Martin just wanted to speak to Luk as quickly as possible and then get home.

Louisa, however, resisted. She whispered to Martin, "I will sort out the health problems, Martin. Please let me stay a moment and chat."

"Very well, Louisa. As you wish. I need to speak with Luk so I am going to head out the door and I will wait at the car. Please don't be too long. You know I don't like a late lunch."

Louisa tried to smile whie also gritting her teeth. She held onto James and said, "Yes, Martin, I know. Please just go and I will see you in a few minutes." She turned to let James and Emily see each other better.

Martin moved as quicly as he could to get into the queue to shake hands with Luk. He saw Ruth coming and made way for her to move in front of him. "So, Martin. I hear people are singing to you now - is that right?" Ruth asked.

Martin sputtered. "Not singing to me, just….um….well, a dedication. Just…..nothing."

"Not what I heard," said Ruth. "I heard the applause took forever to die down and the lifeboat jar filled all the way up afterward," she continued.

"Well, I think the applause was meant for Roger and Luk, certainly not for me," Martin said as they moved closer to the door.

"Martin, you know I don't think you ever give yourself quite enough credit," Ruth said. "God knows you are by far the best doctor these villagers are ever likely to see. You're possibly the best GP in the UK. And even these folk can tell when they have a good thing, much as you may think them all imbeciles."

"Shush," Martin replied hastily as they reached Luk. He shook hands with the vicar who smiled widely at him and greeted Ruth as well. "Um, Luk," Martin said. "I was wondering if we might have lunch at the pub tomorrow. You seem to have been issuing all of the invitations and I would like to reciprocate."

"Sure, Martin. That is a great idea. Noon?" Luk asked.

"Yes noon is fine. I will see you then unless I run behind with patients. If I do I will get Morwenna to phone you," Martin said.

"Fine, see you then," said Luk as he turned to greet the next person in line. Good, he thought. Finally Martin had made a move.


	8. Chapter 8

**Doc Martin is owned by Buffalo Pictures. This is a work of fiction for entertainment only and no copyright infringement is intended. **

Chapter 8

Monday morning was busy as usual. Louisa had taken James Henry to Anne's on her way to school. Morwenna and Martin worked steadily until about half eleven when Martin summarily dismissed the last morning patient by walking her to the outside door and sarcastically wishing her well, while adding "moron" under his breath.

He went back into the consulting room just as the phone rang. "Portwenn Surgery," answered Morwenna in her pleasant way. She listened carefully and then told Martin that a Judson Phelps was on the phone.

"Who?" shouted Martin.

"Judson Phelps," she shouted back.

"Don't know any Judson Phelps," Martin muttered as he picked up the extension. "Mr. Phelps what can I do for you?" he asked in a slightly clipped tone. He wanted to get this call over with so that he would be on time for his lunch with Luk.

"Is this Martin Ellingham, son of Christopher and Margaret?" asked the voice on the line.

"Yes," answered Martin, sitting up straighter in his chair, as if someone would think he had poor posture. "Who are you please?"

"My name is Judson Phelps, Dr. Ellingham. I am, I mean I was, your mother's partner here in Portugal."

"Partner, what do you mean partner?" Martin asked. "Does she have some sort of business now?"

"No, Dr. Ellingham, may I call you Martin?" asked Mr. Phelps.

"No," said Martin.

"Well then, _Dr. Ellingham_, I was your mother's 'domestic' partner here in Portugal. We were going to be married as soon as her divorce from you father was final. I wanted to let you know that Margaret went up to Kensington two weeks ago to take care of some paperwork with your father and her solicitor...and she and your father were killed in a traffic accident on the way back to your father's flat."

The man's voice began to break. "Margaret had always asked me not to contact you in the event of her or your father's death, that there was no need, but I felt you ought to know. Also, my understanding is that you will be contacted soon anyway by the solicitor because your father had changed his will to allow you to inherit the flat. I believe it was yours before?"

"Are you telling me that both of my parents _died_ two weeks ago and no one has thought to contact me, or my aunt for that matter?" Martin shouted into the phone.

"Yes, Dr. Ellingham, I guess that is what I am doing. Your mother meant the world to me and I did my best to give her a nice memorial service. Her wish was to be cremated. I believe a few of your father's friends laid him to rest, and when they contacted me to say she had died, they said they had no way of contacting any relatives. Couldn't find anything in the flat with your number or your aunt's and couldn't be bothered to look it up. I didn't call about it because, as I say, your mother had asked me not to."

Martin sat back in his chair and stared at the opposite wall. He opened his mouth to say something and then closed it as his brain couldn't seem to form words. At last he found some and asked, "Then why, may I ask, are you calling me now, Mr. Phipps, was it?"

"Phelps. It's Phelps. I am calling because the house here was in your mother's name, as you know, and she had not changed her will. Your father was still listed as her beneficiary. I just found her will, and therefore, you now own this home. My home. I mean, your home. I need to either buy you out or get out of here, I guess. I have been...well let's just say under the weather...since she...died and haven't been able to make myself call."

"I can't discuss this now Mr. Fells. Give your details to my secretary and I will contact you this evening!" Martin said as he placed the call back through to Morwenna and hung up.

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Martin sat still for a moment. He briefly considered calling Luk and cancelling lunch but then asked himself why he should do that and, anyway, the vicar would already be on the way, wouldn't he? Rubbish, he thought, and got up to leave.

Morwenna was hanging up the phone as he walked into the reception area and held up a message sheet. "Put it on my desk!" he said curtly. "I am headed to the pub to meet with Luk. I will be back by one!" he said as he walked out the door. "Lock up if you leave."

"Doc, are you all right?" Morwenna asked to the sound of the slamming door. She could have sworn she heard him shout something about his parents dying while he was on the phone. Can't be, she thought, shaking her head.

Martin began to stride down the hill, back straight, walking very quickly. Penhale saw him coming but the thunderous look on his face stopped even him from more than a "Hiya Doc," as Martin continued walking. No thoughts ran through Martin's mind because he closed them off. Completely. No thought other than his destination. He arrived at the pub just at noon and saw Luk at a table as he walked in. Another thing he liked about Luk - always punctual.

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"Hello Martin," Luk said as Martin came in and shook hands. "Good timing. I just walked in myself."

"Hello," Martin said as he sat down.

"Well how has your Monday morning been then?" Luk asked.

"Oh, the same as usual." Martin said. "Stuffy noses, fevers, coughs, just the same as always."

"I guess that's good then right?" Luk asked. It wouldn't be good if there was anything really horrible would it?"

"Yes, I suppose you're right," Martin said.

The waitress came over with water for both men, as that was their customary beverage. "Do you two want your usual order today then?" she asked.

"Yes for me please Shawna," said Luk. Martin nodded as well and she wrote down one Caesar Salad and one broiled fish with vegetables and no chips.

Luk sat back and looked around a moment then looked at his friend. Martin did not seem himself. His hand seemed nervous on his water glass. Luk wondered what was going on in that brilliant mind and damaged soul. For damaged it was, Luk knew. He had been around Martin enough by now to notice the good heart, the completely dedicated and brilliant physician, the attentive father, the smitten husband. But he had also noted the bitter tongue, the anti-social behavior, and the wounded one who built walls against anything remotely perceived as criticism or intimacy. Something was obviously bothering him but Luk knew that silence was his friend when being with Martin.

"I thank you for inviting me to lunch Martin. I have been looking over a new study by a man named John Dominic Crossan. It is a look into the political issues and oppression of the Jews at the time of Jesus and how this shaped his message. I was going to ask you if you would mind watching a few of the DVD sessions and give me your opinion. Some of it could be controversial and I know that you know the larger group of villagers. Sometimes I have trouble knowing whether there are others out there who read and think very deeply like Roger, Ruth and you seem to and I thought you might tell me if you thought I could form a decent-sized small group.

"Luk, I'm not sure that I am the man to comment on something like that. Certainly I have never read or seen anything like it in my life," Martin said.

"But Martin you are in a unique position to help me. You have a brilliant mind, are well read, and I value your opinion. I promise it wouldn't take up too much of your time. The DVD sessions are only about thirty minutes, I think," Luk countered.

"Well, if you really think I can be of help, I will be glad to look at a few, I guess," Martin said and then began to stare off into the distance. He drank some water but seemed to have trouble swallowing. Shawna brought their food and they both began to eat.

While Luk ate, he watched Martin patiently, trying to wait to see if there was something he would say to indicate what was going on in that complicated mind of his. Nothing came. Martin continued to stare. At last he brought his gaze back to Luk and said, "Luk, I am sorry to say I am not feeling well. I am going to have to leave." He then stood, pulled out his wallet, threw down some bills and strode quickly out of the pub.

After a moment, Luk waved to Shawna to ask her to come to the table. "Shawna," Luk said, "Will you please wrap all this food, take these bills - here he added some to the ones that Martin had left - and I will come back for the food later?"

"Sure Father," the young woman said. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes, I am sure everything will be fine. Thanks Shawna," Luk said as he began to make his way toward the door.

"Hello Father," said Joe Penhale, as Luke walked out the door.

"Hello Joe," said Luk. "Sorry but I can't stop to talk right now. See you later," he said as he began to stride up the hill toward the surgery. He could see Martin's tall figure in the distance.

Joe watched as Luk seemed to follow the Doc. He went into the pub and saw Shawna glancing out of the window. "Anything I need to know Shawna?" Joe asked in what he thought of as his "official" voice.

"Not that I know of Joe. Just the Doc left in an awful hurry, then Father Luk waited a minute and left too. Neither of them finished their meal. Maybe the Doc had an emergency although I didn't notice him get a phone call."

"Well, the Doc having an emergency wouldn't require the vicar's assistance would it now?" Penhale questioned. He walked back to the door, glanced out and saw Luk continuing up the hill. Penhale turned and walked toward the school.


	9. Chapter 9

**Doc Martin and all recognizable characters belong to Buffalo pictures and no copyright infringement is intended. This is a work of fiction for entertainment only.**

**Reviews appreciated!**

Chapter 9

Martin reached the top of the hill and walked toward the edge of the cliff, staring out at the sea. It was windy and he was rather breathless from walking so quickly up the steep hill but he took his time trying to catch his breath. He tried to breathe deeply, but he could feel the small amount of fish he had eaten come up into his throat. He swallowed, removed his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his mouth. Then he folded it back on itself and wiped his brow. At last he realized his efforts were futile and walked over to some bushes that grew away from the cliff's edge and threw up his lunch, then his breakfast. He wiped his mouth again but then had to retch once more. Twice.

"Martin!" he heard. Luk was now running toward him and slowed as he got close.

"Oh God, what, now even _you_ have become a village idiot?" Martin shouted to Luk. "No one in this whole damn village can mind their own business! I am perfectly fine, thank you so please just bugger off Luk!" Great, now he is just like the rest, Martin thought. Lived here too long already.

Luk stood quietly, not coming any closer. He waited a few moments, thinking hard, and then spoke. "Martin, I don't want to pry at all. I just saw that you seemed ill and I wanted to know if I should call Louisa for you."

"I am a doctor as you well know Luk," Martin replied acidly. "Please leave."

"But Martin, if you are ill, you of all people should know that you might need help in getting back home safely. I wouldn't feel right leaving you here alone. Shall I call Louisa?" Luk repeated.

There was complete silence on the hill except for the sounds of the gulls. Then Martin suddenly felt a wave of shame fall over him. He wouldn't have been able to name the feeling if his life depended on it, but it felt horrible just the same. Hot and then cold, it ran from head to toe, and then he began to feel clammy. It caused him to retch yet again so he turned back toward the bushes. He_ was_ cognizant enough of his feelings to realize that this particular feeling had nothing to do with Luk but with the news he had heard from his mother's 'partner.' When he stopped he turned back to Luk and said quietly, "I apologize Father. Yes, perhaps you had better call Louisa to meet me at the surgery. And on your way back down, would you please stop and tell Morwenna that I am ill and she should cancel the afternoon appointments? If anyone needs critical care they will need to go to Wadebridge."

Luk approached Martin slowly. He paused for a moment, considering, and then gently put his arm on Martin's shoulder since Martin was still slightly bent over in case he had to vomit again. "Martin, it is Luk to you. Something has obviously upset you greatly. We are friends and I will help you any way I can. I will call Louisa and stop and talk to Morwenna later, but I am really not comfortable leaving you up here alone."

"I'll be fine. Please just leave. Don't frighten Louisa... and thank you."

Luk reluctantly turned around to walk away, reaching for his mobile as he did so. When he had walked a little ways away he turned back once again to check on Martin, who had finally straightened up and was walking toward the cliff edge again, staring out at the sea, seemingly unaware of Luk's presence. Luk watched for a moment and then dialed Louisa's number. The phone began to ring as he walked away, still looking over his shoulder. Martin had stopped walking and was standing about a foot from the edge of the cliff.

"Thanks... Luk," Martin whispered.

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Luk asked for Louisa as soon as the school secretary answered the phone, telling her that it was urgent but that Martin and James were okay. He didn't want to scare her unnecessarily but he did feel that he needed to talk to her quickly. He didn't think that Martin should be alone on that cliff for long. When Louisa answered, her voice was hurried. "Luk, what is going on?"

"Louisa, Martin and I were eating at the pub. I think something was bothering him because he didn't seem himself then he suddenly said he didn't feel well, got up and left and went striding up to the cliff. When I caught up with him he was throwing up in some bushes that grow up there. He wanted me to leave him alone but I finally got him to agree to let me call you. I think you need to get up here right away. I have walked away so he is not in my line of sight at the moment, and he wants me to talk to Morwenna. I will call her next but I have decided to wait here until I see you coming. He said he would meet you at the surgery but I am not sure he is ready to come down."

"Okay Luk. Joe was just here and I am on my way out the door. He saw you take off after Martin and came to get me. What was Martin eating?" she asked.

"There was nothing bloody if that's what you are thinking. He was eating fish and I was eating salad, like we usually do. And he only ate a few bites before he left but when he was sick, it was quite bad I think."

"Okay, Luk. Thanks for calling. I will get up there as soon as I can," Louisa said and rung off.

Luk then dialed the surgery and spoke with Morwenna. He told her that Martin was ill and could not do afternoon hours. She would need to stay, however, and direct any critical care to Wadebridge or the hospital. Morwenna asked what exactly was wrong and Luk just answered that Martin had vomited several times and needed to lie down. Louisa would be bringing him back to the surgery directly. Morwenna wondered if that was all there was to this sickness, remembering the shout she had heard earlier, but she knew the Doc well enough by now to know not to start in with speculations.

Luk rang off and debated going back up the hill to take another look but decided against it. He knew that Martin was calmer when he left him than he had been at first and felt that Louisa's presence would help with the next steps. "God of grace," he prayed, "your servant Martin, one to him you have given a great gift of healing, needs _your_ healing now. Please give Louisa the presence of mind to help him. Be with him and help him to feel your peace."

Finally Luk saw Louisa walking hurriedly toward him. "Have you seen him again?" she called as she walked up to him.

"No, but he hasn't come down either. He must still be up there. I will make my way down to the surgery and if you need me, call me on your mobile and I will come right back up. If I don't hear from you, I will go back down to the pub when I see you coming with him. I don't think he wants anyone else around right now but you, Louisa."

"Thanks Luk," Louisa said.

Luk said. "It seems that something is disturbing him greatly. Please call me later and let me know if there is anything you need. You will be in my prayers."

"Thanks Luk. I'm sure we'll be fine, but Luk, please don't say anything to anyone, even Natalie, about this." Louisa said as she picked up her pace to get to Martin straightaway. Luk assured her that he would not and began to walk down the hill.

Louisa breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Martin standing, looking out at the sea. Then he turned to her and she saw that his eyes were rimmed in red as if he was trying very hard to hold back tears. This caused her to stop still for a few seconds - the only time she had ever seen Martin cry was when James Henry was born. She didn't know what to think.

"Martin," she called and walked quickly toward him.


	10. Chapter 10

**Doc Martin and all recognizable characters belong to Buffalo Pictures. This is a work of fiction and is for entertainment only. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Author's Note: To all of you - I now consider you part of my "family tree," - thanks so much for the words of encouragement. Any more reviews are always appreciated!**

Chapter 10

Louisa walked quickly toward Martin. She did not quite know what to do. Her immediate thought was to hug him but she was unsure if he would welcome physical contact. Sometimes that seemed to close him down. But, heaven knew, she needed a hug herself because she was so glad to see him. Finally she decided to _try_ to hug him and just see what happened.

She got close enough and began to hold out her arms, looking him straight in the eye. Martin moved just a step closer to her and that was all of the encouragement she needed. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him close, breathing in his scent, feeling his strong heartbeat against her body. He was so tense. What could have happened, she thought? How am I going to get him to tell me?

She continued to hug him for a moment more and then stepped back and looked up at him. She decided that perhaps the best thing she could do right now was to just care for his physical needs and worry about the talking later. "Martin," she said. "Do you feel like you can walk down to the surgery now or should we wait a bit? I can wait as long as you need because I have someone covering my work for the rest of the day. What would you like to do?"

Martin hesitated. He knew he was about to _cry_ of all things. He hated for anyone to see him like this, most of all Louisa, for whom he felt he needed to be strong. He certainly didn't want to go back to the surgery and have Morwenna see him like this. He would never hear the end of the speculation about what was wrong with the Doc now. "Let's just walk a bit Louisa, if you don't mind."

"All right Martin, if you feel okay," Louisa said.

"Yes," he replied and began to walk around the cliff, not too close to the edge, but in the direction away from the surgery. Louisa kept silent and just walked beside him for a while and then, to her surprise, he took her hand. His felt clammy to her touch, but at least he was no longer vomiting. They walked in quiet and she sensed that he relaxed the tiniest bit.

Finally he led her around in the other direction, toward the surgery and said, "Let's go home, Louisa," in a very tired, quiet voice. She looked into his face and saw that the redness around his eyes was fading and he seemed more in control of his emotions, at least outwardly. They walked in silence down the hill and she noticed Luk walking quickly away as soon as they came into his view. Martin did not seem to notice him; at least he said nothing.

When they arrived at the door, Louisa told Martin to go up to bed and she would see to Morwenna. He nodded his head and walked in and straight up to their bedroom. Morwenna was just finishing a phone call as they arrived so could not question him anyway. Louisa walked over to the desk. Morwenna looked up and straight into Louisa's eyes and asked, "Is the Doc all right?" She lowered her voice to almost a whisper. "Only, before he went down to the pub someone called on the phone and he was shouting. And I swear he said something about his parents dying, Mrs. Ellingham."

Louisa's eyes widened for a moment and then she closed them and thought. She opened them back up and looked at Morwenna. "Morwenna," she said, "I think it is time you called me Louisa, and now I have to ask you a big favor. Two big favors actually. One is not to mention to ANYONE what you think you heard. I can't imagine that being true. I think Martin would have called me, so I am sure you misunderstood; and the second favor is, will you please go down to Anne's around four and get James Henry and bring him home? I will see to the phone while you are gone."

"Sure,... Louisa. I thought I must have misunderstood. I'm sure you're right - he would have called you if something like that had happened," she continued with a question remaining in her voice.

Louisa turned, took her bag, and went upstairs. She heard Martin brushing his teeth. "Martin," she called softly. "May I come in? I'm worried about you."

"No Louisa. I will be fine in a moment. I will be right out and then I think I will go to bed," he called out.

Louisa sat down on the bed in total shock. He was going to bed? Bed? She waited, chewing her lip.

At last he came out of the bathroom and she stood up. "Can I get you anything Martin? Some water maybe? Or just ice?" she asked.

"No Louisa, but thank you," he said. "I think I would just like to try to sleep now if that is all right."

"Sure Martin but...um...sure," she finally said. "I will be in James' room in case you need me. In case you feel sick again." Then, because she couldn't resist any longer she asked, "Martin is there anything bothering you or have you just gotten a flu bug or something?"

"I'm fine Louisa. Fine. I just need to rest. You don't have to stay up here. Go ahead downstairs and take care of your marking or other work," he said.

"Martin. It's me Louisa. Remember? I am the one who loves you. You are obviously ill. I will be in James' room," she said softly as she walked over and closed the blind and then turned off the light.

Louisa went in and sat down in the rocking chair that was kept in James Henry's room. She was worried. She had never known Martin to just stop and lie down like this in the middle of the afternoon. _Could_ his parents have died? Would that make him this upset? She thought back to the night that Martin had told her about his mother and how she had not wanted him. He had apologized to her, she remembered. Was it possible for him to ever understand that the flaw was in his mother, not in him?

And where did his father fit in? Louisa knew that he used harsh punishments but that was about all she knew about how he acted when Martin was young. When they had begun to share bank accounts and financial information right before their wedding, Martin had told her about giving up his flat to his father so that Joan wouldn't lose her home. She remembered that day - she had hugged him and kissed him and told him that knowing his generosity just made her love him all the more. He had been embarrassed but had eventually returned her kisses with enthusiasm.

But they were divorcing weren't they? Why would they _both_ be dead? Morwenna MUST be mistaken. Or perhaps someone was trying to extort money from Martin? Oh, now I am thinking mad thoughts for sure; too much television, she thought. She picked up her bag and began to get out some paperwork she needed to finish. She had to get her mind off of this or she would go crazy. Martin would surely tell her what was going on when he felt better.

In their bedroom, Martin lay staring in the direction of the window, but not really seeing it. He could hear the voice of Fells, or Phipps, oh whoever - in his head - saying that his parents had been killed. Over and over the word was in his mind - killed…..killed. Gone. They were gone. Why should that upset me, he asked himself. They haven't been a part of my life since their last visit. And even longer before that. For God's sake, he thought! Then he turned off those voices, closed his eyes, and found himself falling asleep from pure emotional exhaustion.

00000000000000000000000

After supper and James' bath, Martin and Louisa went through his bedtime routine together. Louisa noticed that Martin seemed to be absent in a way, not meeting her eyes, but he did give James a kiss and hug before giving him to Louisa to rock for a while.

Louisa went down to the den after the baby was asleep. Martin was sitting on the couch, elbows on his thighs, fingers steepled in front of him, deeply in thought. He was holding a small piece of paper which she recognized as one of the message slips that Morwenna used. She went in and sat down beside him and placed her hands on top of his. "Martin," she said, "Are you ready to talk about what happened today?"

"Yes, I suppose I must. I have embarrassed myself." He sighed, drew a deep breath and began speaking. "Today around half eleven, the phone rang and a gentleman named Judson Phelps was calling. He said…. well he said that he was planning to marry my mother after she got divorced, but Mum was in Kensington two weeks ago with Dad to see a solicitor….and they were both killed in a car accident."

On hearing this, Louisa drew in a deep breath and made as if to speak but Martin held up a hand gently to stop her. He needed to finish this. "She had always told him not to call me if she or Dad died - there was no need she said - and his friends couldn't be bothered either so I am just now finding out. Mum was cremated, Dad buried, and Ruth doesn't know either."

By now, Louisa's eyes were full of tears and she moved toward Martin to hug him. "And you decided to try to go on with your lunch because it didn't matter, am I right Martin?" she asked.

"Well yes, if you must know. It won't really make any difference I suppose except a bunch of bloody paperwork. We now own, or we will soon, two more homes - my old flat in Kensington and the villa in Portugal. I guess I need to call Ruth. And I am going to have to call this man Phelps back. I told him I would," he finished.

"Oh, Martin," Louisa said, tears beginning to roll down her cheeks. "I am so sorry, just so, so sorry."


	11. Chapter 11

**Doc Martin and all recognizable characters belong to Buffalo Pictures. This is a work of fiction, is for entertainment only, and no copyright infringement is intended.**

Chapter 11

"Don't cry Louisa. Please don't cry," Martin said, hugging her. "They treated me horribly. They have not been a part of my life for a long time and now I just want to get all of this paperwork out of the way. I will call my solicitor in the morning. But I have to call this Phelps now, I guess. I told him that I would and I want to get it over with."

"Martin, are you sure? How can you possibly be okay? Shouldn't you think it over and call him tomorrow?" Louisa asked, as she tried to stop crying.

"No. No, I want to get it finished. I am going to call Aunt Ruth and ask her to come over here- I don't want you and James here alone -and then while I am waiting I will see what else he has to say to me," Martin said.

"Martin, why don't I ...?" she started to ask as he held up his hand. "No Louisa. I am fine. I will do it," Martin said as he rose from the couch to go into his consulting room. He had pen and paper there and thought he might need to make notes as he spoke with Phelps.

Louisa knew that he was hurting. But this was his way - get back into control. Take over and do it all himself. It was all he knew. She decided to let it wait for the time being, and went to make herself some tea. She walked into the surgery reception area while she waited on the water to heat so that she could at least hear the tone of his voice and make sure that he was okay.

Martin called Ruth and told her he had news of his parents and needed her to come straightaway. Then he dialed the number of the villa in Portugal. Phelps answered the phone and Martin identified himself and asked what else he needed to know. Louisa couldn't know, of course, what the man was saying, but she heard Martin making a lot of "ums", and saying "yes" and "no" in a very businesslike tone. When she could tell he was almost finished she left the room. At last he rang off and came into the kitchen.

He got himself a glass of water and stood by the window for a moment then walked back toward the front door. He had heard the noise of a car and figured it would be Ruth. It was, and he let her in. Louisa offered tea or water, she chose water and Louisa went to get it. When she brought the water back in Ruth asked, "What is this all about Martin? It must be bad for you to call me out at night like this," she said anxiously.

"Yes, I'm afraid it is," he said. "Today around lunch time I got a call from a Mr. Phelps in Portugal. He told me that Mum and Dad were killed in a car accident in Kensington two weeks ago."

Ruth stared and then composed herself and said, "Martin, who is this man Phelps? Are you sure this is true? Maybe he is just trying to get money from you somehow."

Martin sat down next to Ruth on the couch. He looked at Louisa and then back over at Ruth. "No, I believe him. He was evidently the man that Mum told me about, the one who "saw her as a woman," as she said. They have been living in the villa and Phelps is wondering what to do now."

"But Martin," interrupted Ruth, "two weeks ago? Why hasn't someone rung _one_ of us in that span of time? I find this all very hard to believe."

"Mum had instructed him not to call me in the event of her or Dad's death and evidently Dad's _mates _looked for our names in the flat, couldn't find them and stopped looking. Surprised that they evidently coughed up for his funeral. I guess that bloody club of his was good for something anyway. I suppose I will hear from the solicitor soon about the flat. Evidently Dad willed it back to me and the villa will be mine too. Mum had not changed her will and since Dad was still her beneficiary, I will inherit the villa as well. At least Phelps assumes so. I started to tell him he could have it but then realized I needed to talk to Louisa. We do have a son to educate. Perhaps we should sell it to him at a fair price and put the money away for James Henry?" he asked Louisa with a question in his voice.

"Martin, I'm not sure we should be totally focusing on the business transactions right now," said Louisa gently. "Are you feeling okay now? He was vomiting this afternoon," she said to Ruth.

"Oh Martin!" Ruth said. "Are you sure you are all right? It is perfectly normal for the children of dysfunctional parents to be filled with grief and quite conflicted upon learning of their deaths. And Louisa, dear, your sympathy is sweet but you must understand that I certainly won't be grieving the loss of Christopher or Margaret very much at all. I have been grieving the loss of a brother almost all of my life, for he was never really a brother in the proper sense. I know that our upbringing is the primary cause of the person he became, but I also know that a lot of it was personal choice as well. I would try, but he always laughed. Just laughed. He was always quite selfish, and being the eldest, and a son, he usually got his way. Margaret, always being beautiful and wealthy, was completely selfish also and I felt nothing for her except indifference."

Martin listened and then began to speak. "Both of you - I can assure you that my feelings are very similar to what Ruth has described despite that the fact that they were my parents. After their visit here when Mum made it quite plain that she had never wanted me, I have given her very little thought, and what thought I did give was not very... nice. This is nothing more than a nuisance to me. Bloody nuisance. I will probably have to spend an endless amount of time on paperwork which I would much rather be spending on other things that are more important. I can assure you I am not filled with grief OR conflicted Aunt Ruth. Mum has been cremated. Dad has been buried. It is done. I suppose I should be grateful that I didn't have to take care of that. I will call my London solicitor in the morning and begin to get things sorted there. I just felt that you needed to know as soon as possible and I was uncomfortable leaving Louisa and James Henry here alone tonight after the day we have had. If I need you further I will call and I hope you will feel free to do the same, Aunt Ruth," Martin finished in a very businesslike tone. "Now I think we all need to get to bed. Thank you for coming over."

Louisa felt dizzy. Martin was so...so businesslike, clipped, curt. Ruth didn't seem to find this interval strange but perhaps this was just the way these things had been done in the Ellingham family. It all seemed so cold to Louisa.

"Well Martin I am glad you called and I was glad to come. Will you walk out to the car with me?" Ruth asked.

"Certainly," Martin said and got up to follow Ruth out. Louisa walked to the front door and propped it open with her foot so that she could listen. She had a feeling that Ruth still had something to say and that it might be important for her to hear. She hated to eavesdrop but the Ellinghams were so closed off sometimes, and she felt she needed all of the help she could get right now. And why would Martin have been uncomfortable leaving her here alone?

Ruth spoke to Martin as they walked. Her voice became less brisk, more warm as she spoke. "Martin, I know this is not the Ellingham way and I heard what you said to Louisa and me in there, _and_ I know you are saying that to yourself also, but I have to tell you something from the so-called wisdom of age, and also from my training and experience." She paused then continued, "Your mother evidently admitted the real truth the last time she visited. Your parents have never deserved you Martin. If your father had ever been half of the man that you are, he and I could probably have salvaged some type of relationship, but he wasn't. You are brilliant - a much better surgeon and doctor than he ever was. He knew it too. I am quite sure he was jealous of you. And your mother. Honestly. Not a soft spot anywhere. You, Martin, you have a good heart, a beautiful, loving wife and a wonderful little son. You even have a village of people who look up to you. I used to think that you and Louisa were staying together for the sake of James but I see now that I was wrong. You two obviously love each other and you are already a much better father than your Dad. Don't muck it up Martin. You can't vomit out heartbreak. You MUST go and see someone quickly about your feelings."

Martin started to speak but she raised her hand to silence him. "You won't believe you are hearing this from me Martin, but I love you. And I have grown to love your family. And even a lot of the people in this village. As I said, DON'T MUCK THIS UP. I will have a name for you tomorrow and I am begging you Martin. Please go. Deal with these feelings now and get your life back Martin. They have stolen enough from you. Don't let them steal any more. Good night," she said, and got up on tiptoe to kiss Martin on the cheek. Then she got into her Mercedes and left.

Martin stood in the moonlight watching her go, and reached up a hand to touch his cheek. Louisa quietly closed the door and crept upstairs.


	12. Chapter 12

**Doc Martin and all recognizable characters belong to Buffalo Pictures. This is a work of fiction for entertainment only. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Love to have some reviews after you read this one!**

Chapter 12

Martin came back into the house and stood still for a moment after closing the door. He certainly would never have thought that Aunt Ruth would say all of those things. She did hug him once after he told her she did not have lupus, but he had never heard an outpouring like tonight. Was she right? Did he have conflicted feelings? He certainly wasn't aware of any feeling except annoyance at all of the paperwork ahead of him. What did she say about him being ill today - you can't get rid of heartbreak that way? Heartbreak?

He went back in and sat on the couch since Louisa wasn't there and he wanted to be alone to think. Ruth said that his parents hadn't deserved him. _They_ certainly hadn't felt that way. After all they had been very successful people and he knew that he had surely not been the son they wanted. As a child, he probably wasn't the son anyone would have wanted. Bullied, teased, sensitive, wetting the bed, coming in without knocking, dropping his pocket money... he had often thought that if they had had a son who was more careful and wasn't so wimpy as a child they would have wanted him. Maybe if he had just tried harder, done even better in school, been involved in sport? He had always tried his best but it was never enough.

But he had proved them wrong, hadn't he? He was a good doctor - great even, according to some of his colleagues. Granted, he was no longer a London surgeon but he had even conquered that phobia. He was still considering trying to do occasional surgery in Truro, just hadn't had a chance to talk to Louisa about it. He had a beautiful wife, a healthy little boy.

Rubbish! Who cared what his parents had wanted or thought? They didn't want him? Fine. He was fine. Heartbreak - he thought not. It was just shocking to hear news like that so unexpectedly from someone he didn't know in the middle of a day full of surgery appointments. Small wonder he got sick. He should have called Luk and bowed out of lunch and stayed alone. That way he could have looked at a clock or a journal - anything to take his mind off what he was now looking at - a mound of paperwork and phone calls. He certainly didn't need to talk to anyone about his feelings. He was mildly angry and annoyed, not conflicted or hurt.

He turned off all of the lights and climbed the stairs. He went into his bedroom and saw Louisa lying in bed reading by her bedside lamp. He brushed his teeth, then put on his pyjamas and laid down on the bed. Louisa tried to see him from her peripheral vision. He was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. She touched his hand. He turned to her and she lowered her book. She looked so lovely with the light around her. Martin looked her deeply in the eyes. "Louisa, would you...I think..." His eyes began to get slightly red around the rims. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it and then said, "Louisa, I need you. Will you be with me?"

Louisa put down her book. She was amazed. She certainly had never expected this from him tonight of all nights. She turned on her side, leaned over and kissed him. She ran her hand over his soft hair. "Martin, I will be with you whenever you need me. Come here," she said as she urged him closer. He kissed her tenderly and, then, instead of leaning back and watching her as he often did, he began to run his hand down her side and then through her hair. He kept his eyes tightly closed and kissed her again. He stopped for a moment and undressed and Louisa did the same.

Louisa held on tight as his kisses and his hands began to touch her again and became more urgent. She felt his need of her more tonight than she ever had. She thought back to the first time they were together like this - the night of their first engagement. Martin had been happier, but in some ways he had been like he was tonight. Almost as if he wasn't quite sure that she was going to stay. Couldn't believe she was with him. Needed her in some deep way that even he did not quite understand. His hands began to work their magic and her breath caught in her throat.

At last he opened his eyes and looked at her. "Louisa, I hope you know that I love you with all of my heart and I always will. Please stay near me. Love me. Just love me." His lovemaking became more urgent. His kissing tender one moment, then wild with abandon the next. She could feel his heart pounding. "Oh, Louisa," he said once more as the heat between them became so sweet, almost unbearable in its intensity.

Afterward, as his breathing slowed, he lay back on his side, staring into the distance and caressing her cheek, his brow furrowed. Finally he lay on his back. Louisa leaned over to kiss him gently. His eyes were closed and she noticed, in the lamplight, one tiny tear had rolled down his cheek. Louisa said quietly, "Martin, thank you."

"Hmm?" he asked.

"Thank you, you wonderful man, for letting me be with you tonight. No shutting me out. Reaching for me. You are always so strong Martin, but thank you for letting me lift you up tonight. I love you." Then inspiration hit her and she realized why he hadn't wanted to leave her tonight to go to Ruth's. It wasn't worry over her. It was because he couldn't bear to leave her and James at all, and he didn't even realize it himself.

"I love you too Louisa," he said as he sat up and reached over her to turn out her lamp. He gave her one last kiss on the cheek.

Louisa lay in the dark and at last heard Martin's breathing even out and she knew he was asleep. She thought about what Ruth had said to him. His parents had stolen so much - the simple fun he could have had as a child, the learning from small mistakes instead of making mountains of them and turning him into an unbelievable perfectionist. The way to run into arms you could trust when something bad happened, the pure joy of knowing that someone loved you just for being you.

She thought back to her own mother leaving. Her innocence was gone and she had gone through a lot of grieving over it. Somehow, though, she had finally figured out that Eleanor left because of her dad and because of something within herself that would not allow her to settle down, not because of Louisa. Not because Louisa was "less than", or fundamentally flawed. Her father, messed up as he was, had told her that many times. Her thoughts ran back to Saturday and the words of the song. They were so true. The people in this village truly were "leaves on her family tree" and they too had helped to show her that she was worthy of love. She still had her moments of doubt, but that is all they were - moments, not a lifetime of such thoughts lying in the back of her mind.

Martin hadn't had anyone except Joan and Phil, and even that not for long. This was going to be a hard slog, getting through this. She could still hardly believe that, after his mother said probably the worst thing a mother could say to her child, he had still apologized to her. It was like he believed she was right not to want him. He needed to apologize for being here. Oh Martin. She glanced over at him in the moonlight. She could still see the tear track on his face because of the way the light fell through the slats of the blind. I hope I helped you tonight. I pray I can figure out what to do tomorrow.

But she fell asleep with a small smile on her face. He _had_ turned to her, in one of the ways he knew how. Maybe there was hope. And though she didn't think of it at all, there was a glimmer of light and melody within that small teardrop.


	13. Chapter 13

**Doc Martin and all recognizable characters are owned by Buffalo Pictures. This is a work of fiction and for entertainment only. No copyright infringement is intended.**

Chapter 13

The following morning Morwenna arrived a few minutes early. She went into the kitchen to get a cup of tea and found the Doc with his coffee. "Good morning Morwenna,"" he said. I want to apologize about all of the extra work that was thrown at you yesterday when I fell ill. And thank you for going to get James Henry to help Louisa. I had some shocking news yesterday and should have stayed here rather than gone to the pub for lunch. I found out that my parents have been killed in an accident. I am going to be on the phone today with several people in the London area and I will appreciate it if you will put any calls straight through."

"Doc, I am so sorry to hear your news," Morwenna said, "and don't worry about yesterday. Do you mind if I ask - what happened, and does your Aunt Ruth know?"

"Car accident evidently. In Kensington. Yes, Aunt Ruth does know. Can I have the first patient's notes now?" Martin said, finishing his talk and returning to business.

Morwenna shook her head in wonder at his businesslike tone and then gave him the notes he wanted. She began to think hard as he went back into his consulting room. Poor Doc. He didn't seem upset though. She had heard things about the time his parents were here to visit. She had thought they were getting a divorce. Why would they have both been killed in a car accident together? She turned on her computer and began to search the internet.

The morning went by quickly and Morwenna had very little time to herself. She did, however, find a small article about the accident. It had happened two weeks ago. Two weeks! Why was the Doc just now finding out? Why hadn't he called Louisa the moment he knew about it? She would never understand him, she decided, but she ought to let a few people know about what had happened. She decided to take her food down to the harbor at lunch. Maybe she could tell some people that way. Wonder if anyone had told the vicar? Well, the Doc probably did since they went to lunch. Did he eat something bad or did hearing about his parents make him sick?

When lunchtime came, Morwenna told Martin that she was going out and Martin decided that this suited him as he could eat alone in the kitchen. He had spoken to his London solicitor during a lull between patients earlier and the man had told him that he had been planning to call Martin later in the day anyway. Martin was indeed going to inherit both the flat and the villa, as well as all of their contents and all of his father's other personal effects.

After the last visit with Martin, his father had decided to just live in the flat instead of having Martin sell it. He liked the posh address. Then he had taken what little money he had left and invested it. He had been lucky enough with his investments that he had been able to maintain the flat on his own and it was evidently in fairly good shape from what the solicitor understood. Martin had always wondered what investments his father had gotten into for him to be able to maintain the lifestyle he had always loved. He sometimes pondered if everything had been "above board." Therefore, he had directed the solicitor to look into this immediately and get the estate out of anything questionable as soon as possible.

The solicitor had a long-standing relationship with Martin and knew of the estrangement with his parents. He understood that this was going to be a hard situation. He asked Martin to think about what he would want to do with the properties and to let him know and he would help in whatever way necessary. Martin had replied that he would discuss things with Louisa and let him know as quickly as he could.

Now Martin could sit down and have some peace while he tried to figure out what he thought they should do and then he and Louisa could make decisions together tonight after she gave some input. She had promised him this morning that she would give it some thought during the day, but had already said that she thought his idea of putting money aside for James Henry would probably be best. Privately, she didn't think that keeping the properties would serve any purpose except bringing up bad memories. She also had wanted to stay with him today and thought he should take the day off. "Louisa, you must be kidding. I have told you, I am fine," he had said.

Martin had just made his coffee and sat down with a sandwich when he saw Ruth walking by the kitchen window, chatting with someone. She knocked on the kitchen door and he put his sandwich down to answer. He had a slight scowl on his face when he opened the door to find Ruth and Luk.

"Come in," he said, not quite meeting Luk's eyes.

"Good morning Martin," Ruth said.

"You've called Luk I see," Martin said as he motioned for them to take a seat around the table. "Good morning," he said to Luk.

"Yes, Martin, I have called the vicar. When one has a death in the family, that is the standard thing to do, especially when one is friends with the vicar in question," Ruth said with a small smile on her face.

"Thank you Aunt Ruth. I am aware of the niceties. I am not sure I am still friends with the vicar in question though. I apologize Luk. I embarrassed myself yesterday," Martin said, finally looking up at Luk.

"Martin, first of all of course we are still friends and you did NOT embarrass yourself. What are friends for if you can't come to them when something like this happens?" Luk countered.

I don't really know the answer to that question, Martin thought to himself. "Nevertheless, I apologize for my outburst. I think I was just very surprised about all of this and should have postponed the lunch," Martin said.

"Not necessarily Martin," Ruth interrupted. "What you could have done was change the restaurant - that pub is the hotspot for gossip - and then told Luk what happened instead of talking over the morning's appointments or whatever." She paused but then went on, "I know that you would rather we kept all of this to ourselves but it won't be possible here Martin. And truthfully it is unnecessary. These people care about you and your family and even me, and they are going to want to let all of us know that."

"Yes, I think she's right, Martin," Luk said. "You and Louisa had better be prepared for food and visits. People are going to want you to know they care."

"I do not want any of that," Martin said in a disgusted tone. "We just need to get the business ends tied up. Isn't there some way we can avoid all of this interference? Most of these people just want fodder for their gossip anyway."

Luk began to speak. "Martin, some of the villagers will be gossiping, of course, but not all of them. They really do care about you and Ruth, and Louisa and James Henry too. You remember once that I told you that I was asking you to do something because I care for you, not because I wanted to be in your business. This is the same thing. It may be hard for you to believe because you obviously aren't used to it, but I know because people tell me things. They really do appreciate you Martin. I won't lie and say that you don't drive some of them mad, but they know that you are a gifted healer, and totally dedicated to the health of everyone in this village. And they are going to come AND bring food. So be ready."

Martin scowled. "Great. Just what I need. A mountain of paperwork, food I can't eat and visitors I don't want."

Ruth interrupted. "Luk, will you excuse us a moment? I need a word with Martin in private." She and Martin got up and went over into the den. Ruth held up a small piece of paper. "Martin, here is that name I told you I would bring. The phone number is here as well. This man is a counselor - a very good one, not a psychiatrist. I don't think you need medication of course. As I said last night, I am begging you to call this man. He is the friend of a colleague of mine, he understands your working hours and will get you in as soon as possible. Promise me you will call, and then I will leave."

"Aunt Ruth," Martin began, "I appreciate that you care and you think you are helping. But truly, I am not heartbroken, or filled with grief or conflicted in any way. I really don't see the need for talking with anyone other than my solicitor with whom I have already spoken ."

"Martin," Ruth said firmly. "I won't leave until you promise. After all, if there is really nothing to discuss, you can just talk with the man once and it will be done, right? Then Aunty Ruth will shush and go away. Now promise."

"What if I promise I will call and then don't do it? How will you be any the wiser? The man obviously can't tell you whether I have come or not or he will violate patient confidentiality," Martin stated.

"Martin," Ruth said, "give me a little credit. I know you better than that. If you promise me, you will go. Now promise. I must be off. I have things to do."

Martin sighed. "Fine," he said. "Give me the bloody number."

"Thank you Martin. And goodbye. Now go and talk to your friend. Goodbye Father," she said on her way out of the door.


	14. Chapter 14

**Doc Martin and all recognizable characters belong to Buffalo pictures. This is a work of fiction for entertainment only and no copyright infringement is intended.**

Chapter 14

Luk sat at the table while Martin talked to Ruth and mulled this over in his mind. Martin _would_ need to talk to someone. Luk was putting together all of the pieces of things he had heard from villagers, things he saw for himself yesterday, and what he had just heard from Martin himself. Martin's parents must have been deeply troubled and dysfunctional people who took their insecurities and mean behavior out on their only son. How many times had he seen this happen in his lifetime as a priest? It often left him feeling so helpless. He had grown to respect and care about the Ellinghams so much in his short time in Portwenn. How could he be of help?

Luk very much doubted that Martin would want to repeat his parents' mistakes, but he also knew that without some help, he likely would do so. It always seems the way of things, he thought. Martin came back to the table and sat down. Luk motioned to Martin's sandwich. "I ate earlier," he told Martin. "Please feel free to eat while we talk."

Martin nodded his head and took a bite of his sandwich. Luk said, "Please accept my condolences Martin. From what happened yesterday - the fact that you came to the pub and kept quiet after receiving news like that - I gather there wasn't much love lost between you and your parents. Please believe, I am not trying to pry, nor am I judging you. I respect your privacy but like you, experience in my field allows me to make a diagnosis, if I can call it that. You don't have to tell me anything, I just want you to know that I and the congregation care about you and want to help in any way we can. Will you be going to London for a funeral?"

"No," Martin answered. "My mother's partner had her cremated at her request and some of my father's friends had him buried. They couldn't find my name or Ruth's in the flat so didn't bother to call. I have contacted my London solicitor this morning and we are beginning to work out the estates. And Aunt Ruth is begging me to go to a counselor," he added and then opened his mouth in shock that he had spoken that last statement aloud. How did this man always get him to say things he did not mean to say?

"Well, Martin, your aunt may be right, Luk responded. "I have personally seen a counselor during times of stress and I have recommended to numerous congregants that they go and see someone for all kinds of issues. I look on counseling as just another piece of our health care armor. We have all kinds of doctors and nurses, people like me who hopefully help with our spiritual lives, and psychiatrists and counselors who help with the internal workings of our minds. If you had diabetes you would take insulin, wouldn't you?" Luk questioned.

"Of course I would," Martin said, "but I don't and I also don't have a problem about my parents. They were always disappointed in me but I have accepted it and moved on. And I don't need a bunch of psychological clap-trap to help me do that."

Luk could tell that this line of conversation would likely go nowhere so he sat silently. The he decided to speak. "Martin, do you consider me a friend now?" he asked.

Martin replied rather quietly, "Yes."

"Then as a friend, I want to tell you something that has helped me and it might help you too. I am like you in that I am rather introverted, as you have noticed I'm sure, and when I went to a counselor the first time, I had a hard time making any progress. Finally the counselor decided that what might work best was for me to have what she called 'homework.' "

"Cognitive behavior therapy,"Martin said.

"Yes," Luk said. "She and I would talk a bit about what had been going on during the week and she would give me things to do - a book to read or perhaps something to write or a behavior to try. Quite frankly it appealed to my sense of logic, it allowed me to do the work I needed on my own and there was very little 'psychological clap-trap' involved. If you decide to go, you might want to ask to work that way. As you probably know, some therapists don't work that way and you might need to try several people to find the right fit for you, but I can promise you, if you find the right counselor, it will be worth the search."

Luk continued, "Martin, one of the things I quickly learned about you is that you are extremely determined, have phenomenal inner reserves., and you love your wife and son as much as almost anyone I have ever known. Those are only a few of the gifts with which you have been blessed. Use them and you will benefit and so will your family."

"What gives you the idea that I have been 'gifted' in those ways, may I ask?" Martin asked with a voice full of skepticism.

"Martin, I like to think that I am fairly perceptive, especially when it involves people I admire. I can see those things. Others tell me those things about you. Natalie can see it too. Do you think so little of our opinions?" Luk asked.

"Of course not, " Martin said. Then more quietly he added, "I just don't think of myself that way I guess, except for the part about loving my family, although I don't always do that very well. Just ask Louisa."

"Martin," Luk continued, "I'm sure if I did ask Louisa, she would tell me that you do love her and she knows it. Being Louisa, she might like more demonstrative behavior sometimes, I don't know, - Natalie does and I am not great at that myself. But, believe me, Louisa knows she is loved. But you are going to need to let her in about this Martin. Remember what I told you about the past vicar - we Anglicans tend to do better in community. And community includes, first and foremost, your family."

Martin sighed. "Louisa said the same thing last night. I guess I am going to have no choice." He paused, "Okay I will call the gentleman, but if he starts in with the psyco-babble I am out," he said quickly.

"Give it a chance Martin. It might not be as bad as you think." Luk smiled. "After all our marriage sessions weren't _so _bad were they?"


	15. Chapter 15

**Doc Martin and all recognizable characters are the property of Buffalo Pictures. This is a work of fiction for entertainment only and no copyright infringement is intended.**

Chapter 15

Later in the afternoon, Martin had a few moments between patients so he decided to go ahead and call the therapist. Might as well get it over with, he thought. He remembered Dr. Milligan who helped him with the blood phobia techniques. Only one short visit required for that, he remembered, and then I did the rest on my own, along with his CDs. I only promised one visit. I'm sure that will be sufficient.

So he dialed, expecting a receptionist and so was surprised when the therapist himself answered the phone. His name was Mr. Winchell and he seemed surprised as well when Martin gave his name. Mr. Winchell had not expected Ellingham to call so quickly. From what he knew from Martin's reputation, he knew this was likely to be a tough conversation.

"My aunt, Dr. Ruth Ellingham, as I am sure you know, wanted me to make an appointment with you to discuss the rather unfortunate accident that has claimed the lives of my parents. My father was her brother. She is of the opinion that I am highly distressed and, to assuage her fears for me, I have agreed to come and see you. Once," Martin said.

There was no reply for a moment and then Mr. Winchell spoke. "Dr. Ellingham, I am happy to see you, however I was under the impression that the number of visits would be open for discussion. I am not sure we should even start if we have that condition. As I am sure you know from your own patients, one visit is often not enough for the proper help and I would be opposed to having that condition."

Now the silence was on Martin's end. At last he relented and said, "Fine," with a voice full of impatience. "We will leave the matter up for discussion but I feel it only fair to tell you that I want to deal with this issue as quickly as possible. I have been advised by a...friend that I should ask if you are comfortable working by using cognitive behavior therapy. Like my friend, I think I will be more comfortable doing things rather than just a lot of talk about things. I don't really talk, and I find dredging up the past a most unprofitable use of my time."

"Dr. Ellingham, I am confident that we will be able to find the right mix of techniques to aid you. I will look forward to meeting you. Your skill as a diagnostician, surgeon and GP precede you."

Was this man being "smarmy" as Louisa would say? Martin certainly hoped not. This relationship would not last long if so. In a clipped tone, Martin said, "Well then, I guess we need to discuss when I can come in. I have a very busy practice and my hours are quite full."

"What your aunt may not have mentioned, or even known, is that I have recently retired from my practice and am seeing only a few select patients at the current time. I can see you in the evening if you like. What about tomorrow?" Mr. Winchell asked. He knew if he waited very long, this appointment would likely not occur and his professional curiosity was piqued. He would have to rearrange a bridge game but that could be managed.

"So soon?" Martin questioned. "I will need to check with my wife but I guess that would work. Seven o'clock all right?"

"Just call if your wife has a conflict, but otherwise I will expect to see you then," Mr. Winchell said, and, after giving Martin his address, he rang off.

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Just as the last patient was preparing to leave for the day, Al Large walked in carrying two boxes. "Hiya Al," Morwenna said, "and what have you got in those boxes - not a present for me I'll bet?"

Al walked across the room, closer to the consulting room door. "No, these are for the Doc. Sorry Morwenna. "

Martin heard what Al had said, just as Al had planned, and called him into the room. "Come through Al," he said.

"Hi Doc. Dad and I heard your news this afternoon. I brought some pasties and desserts from the restaurant. We wanted you to know you have our sympathy."

Martin cleared his throat, clearly embarrassed. "Go through to the kitchen Al and we'll put them on the table," Martin said as he gestured to the kitchen. They walked in and Al put the boxes down. He moved to open one of the boxes and show Martin.

"This one has the pasties, Doc, and the other has the desserts. Just a few sweets because we know they're not your, um, favorite. But we thought Louiser might appreciate a few. They could probably all do with the frig in a bit unless you are going to eat them soon."

Martin shook his head to show that he understood. "Thank you Al and please tell your father that we thank him as well. It is kind of you to think of us." Martin stopped and waited, hoping that Al would take the hint and leave now as he was very uncomfortable.

"So, car accident, we heard?" Al asked.

"Yes. In Kensington," Martin answered. "My father evidently hit a curb and lost control of the car. Fortunately no other car was involved."

Silence reigned in the kitchen and at last, to Martin's relief, Al said, "Well, we're sure sorry Doc. Let us know if we can be of help and tell Louisa as well."

"I will. Thank you Al," Martin said and followed him through to the reception area and said goodbye.

Morwenna was preparing to leave. Martin thought about asking her to take the pasties, but decided he had better not as Al had just left and, if he saw, that would definitely be rude. Normally he wouldn't have cared much but Al was one of the few in this village that he could easily tolerate. It wouldn't do to hurt him, and anyway, Bert would probably just have his cook prepare more. He certainly didn't know who would eat them though. Far too fattening.

"Bye, Doc. See ya tomorrow," Morwenna said.

"Goodbye," Martin said. He walked back into the kitchen and sighed. This might be only the first of the food and visits. God, this village, he thought.


	16. Chapter 16

**Doc Martin and all recognizable characters are owned by Buffalo Pictures. This is a work of fiction and is for entertainment only. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Author's note: Thanks to Susie S for asking about Louisa. I had her story in my mind but you all can't read that can you?**

Chapter 16

Louisa came home with James Henry shortly after Morwenna left. She gave the baby to Martin. "I have some things in the car," she said. "Be right back."

She came back in the kitchen with a small bouquet of flowers and a basket of fruit. "From the staff at the school," she said, "to express their sympathy." She went and got a vase and began to put the flowers into water. Martin looked at James, since the baby was playing with his ear and hair. He tried to put James' arm down, but it was to no avail.

"Well, at least your staff have some idea of good nutrition," Martin said. "The boxes there are from Bert and Al - pasties and desserts," he said with a frown. "I suppose we should just throw them away."

"Oh no Martin," Louisa said gently. "You don't have to eat them. I can take some of them for lunch for the next several days. It won't hurt, will it? I just couldn't bear not to eat at least a few. If Bert asked how we liked them, I would hate to have to lie."

"Oh, very well, Louisa. But if you are going to eat things like that, you had better step up your exercise. At least take a short walk at lunch."

"Yes, Martin," Louisa said with an internal salute and sigh. She took James back and went into the den to take some time with him. "Have you had a good day, my little man?" she asked him, smiling and kissing him on the cheek. He giggled and crawled over to the toy bin. He grabbed a block and quickly stuck it in his mouth.

"Did you have a good day, Martin?" Louisa asked. She was still in a good mood from their closeness the night before. She had been doing a lot of thinking too, about Martin, about herself, and about what to do about Martin's parents' estates. She and Martin had certainly come a long way for him to even realize he should stop and ask her before making decisions about all of this by himself.

"My day was, for the most part, full of the usual amount of worriers, whingers, and a few actual problems that need to be looked into further. And of course the food and visits have begun." He paused then said in a quieter voice, "Also, to assuage Aunt Ruth I have made an appointment with a counselor. Tomorrow evening at seven if that works for you."

Louisa smiled. "Oh Martin, I think that's great. Tomorrow evening is fine. Who is the therapist?"

"A man named Winchell. He's actually retired and is only taking a few patients, thus the late hour being available. His address is just outside of Wadebridge so it shouldn't take too long to get there, and hopefully we can take care of this in just a few sessions. I really don't have time or the need for seeing a counselor for months."

"I think I might like to go with you sometime," Louisa said, half-jokingly. "With my background, I am sure I could keep him in business for quite a while."

"Well, Louisa, I for one have no plan to go and hash over my childhood. Waste of time. I am only doing this to reassure Aunt Ruth. With her job experience at Broadmoor, she sees problems where none exist at times. I only promised her one session, but the gentleman insisted that we leave our options open. So I think I will go, hear what he has to say and then perhaps go back once more. I'm sure that will be sufficient."

Louisa sat quietly for a moment, still watching James Henry to be sure he stayed with his toys and did not get into anything else. She and Martin had tried to childproof the whole house but one never knew. Louisa thought about what Martin had just said. From their relationship history and their life together, she knew for sure that Martin would be better off if he kept seeing the therapist for more than two sessions, but she would just have to hope the man knew what he was doing and could convince Martin. She wasn't at all sure _she_ could do that. She got up and walked over to Martin. "I love you, you know." She put her arms lightly around his neck and kissed him, then let go. She began to gather food to prepare their supper. "You know Martin," she continued, "I really will be interested in what he has to say. You know that I have had my own struggles - still do in fact. I think, no, I know, that those habits of mine are a big part of what took us so long to have a more stable relationship."

"To what exactly are you referring?" Martin asked.

"Oh come on Martin, I am quite sure you know. My short temper for one thing, when it comes to certain things that make me feel threatened with loss. Every time we would have a conversation and it would be so combative, I was so afraid I had already lost you. And when you kept to yourself, I would decide that, just as I feared, there was something within me that was flawed and you didn't really want me."

She paused and thought some more. "I think that I have been lucky in some ways Martin. Like most children would, I felt for a long time that my mother left us because of me. Oh, I would tell myself she didn't, but I never quite believed it. My father would even tell me that it was his fault that she left, not mine. But of course he was drinking quite a bit when he said that sometimes. I felt so alone, like I had to do everything for myself - the way I acted during the pregnancy. But the luck comes in when I think of the fact that at least Dad stayed, Mum has made some amends and the people in this village - they have just always gotten behind me."

"Bert for instance - I know he drives you crazy - but he took me to church, had me to supper when Dad was drinking too much, gave me hugs and let me help him care for Al. And Joan, I miss her so much. She bought me dresses, gave me fresh baked pie with cream, and gave me books to read. Hmm. I wonder if some of those were books she had bought for you that you had left at her house? Anyway, so many people "took up the slack" as Natalie would say. She's told me before that she thinks these people were God's gifts to me, and I have begun to think she's right."

She continued while she stirred a pot. "While I was living in London, alone and pregnant with James, I spent a lot of time thinking about all of this. I talked to some of my friends of course, and I read some books, but mostly I just thought a lot about my life and the way you and I could never quite seem to stay together even though there was obviously something about you that I loved, and vice-versa, I think?"

"Umm," Martin grunted.

"Anyway, I spent some time writing as well. One of the books I read suggested that I write down what I would like to say to my mum and dad and what I would like for them to say to me. That was a very helpful exercise and made me see some of the unnecessary walls that I had built. They were coping mechanisms during childhood, but they were in my way as an adult. I needed to find new ways of coping, but old habits die hard. So, when I came back here, and saw Edith in your kitchen, the walls I had so carefully tried to tear down went right back up, snap," and here Louisa snapped her fingers to illustrate, "and all of my careful work was washed away in a flood of emotion."

Martin continued to watch Louisa as she prepared their supper. He made no comment about her revelations. He didn't like to think about the months she had been in London alone. In truth it made him very nervous to remember that time at all. He went into the den and sat down on the floor with James Henry. The baby had a rattle now and was shaking it with all of his might. Martin's first thought was "noise, always noise," but then he noticed the grin on his son's face, and the strength he could see in those little arms. He wondered if he had ever done anything like that as a child? Would his nanny have allowed it if his parents weren't in the room? He was sure it would not have been allowed if they _were_ present, as such noise would have been bothersome to them.

He thought about what Louisa had said about her 'coping mechanisms'. That did sound like clap-trap to him, although she certainly seemed to take it seriously. He decided to ask her a question. "Louisa, if you had walls that went back up, what finally tore them down?"

"Well Martin, when you admitted that you needed me in that pub where James Henry decided to put in his appearance," she smiled in remembrance, "I realized that I needed you too and that helped. But what finally made them come down was you asking me for one last chance up at that awful castle. I realized then, through everything that you said, that you truly loved me, you weren't going to leave, and I was going to have to trust someone for once."

Louisa paused then went on, " I won't say it has always been easy, and the walls are still there. When we have an argument, I am sometimes more harsh than I intend because I am scared inside. And when you are very quiet, I worry that I have done something to bother you and maybe you don't want me anymore. The walls are a lot lower now, and they may always be there to a certain extent. But, I have put my trust in us, and I have realized that I have to be vulnerable in order to be truly strong. You helped me figure that out Martin. And I am grateful."


	17. Chapter 17

**Doc Martin and all recognizable characters belong to Buffalo Pictures. This is a work of fiction and is for entertainment only. No copyright infringement is intended.**

Chapter 17

The next day seemed to drag for Martin. Luk was the only interruption in a line of colds, gout, sore throats and skin infections. He came over right after lunch with his arms full of food and cards. "Well Martin," he said, "I believe I warned you yesterday. I started getting calls right after supper last night. I think there was a general feeling that while they wanted you to know you had their sympathy, they would rather I be the one to deliver it," he continued with a smile.

"Oh God," Martin said and then cleared his throat. "Oh heavens," he said. "Bad habit, sorry. Thank you very much for being the delivery man. Much better to receive this from you than have a long train of villagers running into the surgery all day long."

Luk laughed. "Oh, I don't imagine this is all, but maybe it is the bulk. Here are cards as well. Natalie took care to put names on everything. She called Louisa and Louisa asked her to do that so that you all could write thank you notes."

"Thank you notes?" Martin asked.

"Yes Martin that is the general etiquette. But I think Louisa is planning to write most of them. I wouldn't worry. Would I be prying too much if I asked whether or not you called the therapist?"

"Yes you would," Martin answered. "But I did call him. I am going to see him tonight."

"Tonight? How did that happen? You usually have to wait weeks."

"Yes, but this gentleman has recently retired and is only seeing a few patients. He agreed to see me in the evening due to my work hours. And anyway, it should only be for two visits," Martin said.

Luk remained silent. Oh Martin, he thought. I think there is a lot more to do than can be done in two sessions.

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After supper, Martin kissed Louisa and James Henry and got into the Lexus and drove toward Wadebridge. His car had a GPS system and so he had no trouble finding Mr. Winchell's home. Cottage really. It was a lovely low home, covered with vines. The tiny garden was bursting with color as flowers bloomed all over in neat flower beds. "Winchelsea Cottage" said a tiny plaque by the door.

Martin knocked and a gentleman came to the door. He was a tall bright-eyed, white haired gentleman of about sixty-five or so. He was dressed in a suit and tie, Martin noted with approval. "Dr. Ellingham?" he questioned Martin.

"Yes," said Martin as he stuck out his hand to shake with Mr. Winchell.

"Please come in. We will meet here in my den if you don't mind. My wife died several years ago and I decided when I retired that I would just meet folks in here since she was no longer here knitting for our grandchildren," Winchell said.

Martin looked around at a lovely room, full of family pictures, bright fabrics and solid antique furniture. Rough-hewn beams of a burnished brown hung low so that Martin had to duck his head. "This is fine," he said and sat down on the couch to which Mr. Winchell was pointing.

"Would you care for tea, coffee, water?" Mr. Winchell asked. Martin, who wanted to get this meeting over with as soon as possible, declined a beverage. He tried to remain in a posture that would get across his determination to be finished quickly.

Mr. Winchell picked up a notebook and pen and sat down in a chair to the left of the couch. "I may make some notes as we talk, just to keep things straight," he said. "Now Dr. Ellingham, will you please tell me why you have chosen to come and see me?"

Here we go, thought Martin. "As I said on the phone, my parents have been killed in an auto accident and my Aunt Ruth, who has been a psychiatrist for years at Broadmoor Hospital, thinks that I am distressed and conflicted because I have been estranged from my parents for quite some time. I, however, do not feel distressed or conflicted, only annoyed that I now have a huge amount of work to do that will take even more time away from my family and my work."

"Tell me about your family. You are married?" Winchell asked.

"Yes, Louisa is my wife and we have a young son, getting close to one year old. His name is James Henry."

"And why do you think that your aunt assumes you are distressed over your parents' deaths?" Winchell asked.

"Quite honestly I think it is an occupational hazard. I suppose that when one works with the mentally ill every day for years, one will see potential problems any time there is an estrangement within a family," Martin concluded.

Mr. Winchell knew that this conversation would have to proceed slowly. He could tell already that he needed to get this man to discuss his parents, but how to go about it? "When was your parents' accident, Doctor?"

"Approximately two weeks ago. They were both in Kensington, working with a solicitor on divorce proceedings and on the way back to my father's flat, he hit a curb, lost control of the car and they were both killed. No other vehicles were involved fortunately," Martin said.

No emotion. All business. Was this man truly devoid of feeling where his parents were concerned? Winchell very much doubted it. In his experience, a doctor of the calibre of Ruth Ellingham would not likely be so mistaken.

"When were the funerals?" Winchell asked.

"After the accident some of my dad's friends, from his club in London I assume, buried him. My mother's partner in Portugal had her cremated and had a memorial service as she had requested," Martin said.

"So am I to understand you were not a part of either ceremony? Your aunt either?" Winchell asked with surprise.

"That is correct. Evidently my father's mates could not find my or my aunt's contact information in his flat and couldn't be troubled to look us up on the internet. My mother had instructed her partner not to inform me in case of either death because, as she evidently said, 'there was no need,'" Martin said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Ah, now a bit of emotion, Winchell thought. "Then how have you found out now? Has a solicitor called?" Winchell asked.

"No, my mother's partner found her will, learned that I would likely be the new owner of the home he lives in and figured he had best call me anyway. Probably trying to get in my good books," Martin added as an afterthought.

Winchell sat quietly for a moment. How best to phrase his next question? "Dr. Ellingham, since learning of the accident, how have you been feeling physically, in general?" he finally asked. "Are you sleeping well, short-tempered, stomach upset…?"

Martin turned his head away from Winchell slightly at this question. After a moment he looked back at him and said, "On Monday, Phelps, who was my mother's partner, called me in the middle of the day. The news was rather shocking of course but, as I already had a luncheon engagement, I got him to give his information to my receptionist and went about my business. Unfortunately I fell ill after eating only a small amount of my lunch and ended up back at home in bed."

Martin continued, "After a nap I got right up to be with my family. I have slept fine, have not been any more short-tempered than is required when dealing with the mostly moronic villagers I have to tend every day, and my wife…," Here Martin stopped, and began to blush.

"Your wife?" prompted Winchell, noting the blush.

"My wife has been very supportive," Martin said quickly.

"So, Doctor Ellingham - I am just trying to get a complete picture, you understand. Who were you meeting for lunch on Monday and why do you think you got sick?" Winchell asked.

**Author's note: 100 points to the first person who can tell me from where in the DM canon comes the name of Mr. Winchell's cottage? Hint: The Doc always has a problem with names doesn't he? :)**


	18. Chapter 18

**Doc Martin and all recognizable characters belong to Buffalo Pictures. This is a work of fiction for entertainment only. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Author's note: As Penhale would say, pat on back for a great try, but only 50 points to robspace54. Mr. Coley in S5E6 was called lots of names, but not Winchelsea. Contest from chapter 17 is still open.**

Chapter 18

As Martin took his leave of Mr. Winchell, he noted again the beautiful, neat garden. Well kept, he thought with approval. He got in his car and started home and began to think about the evening. Winchell certainly seems very professional, he thought. Not like that young Dr. Milligan with his casual clothing and his nasal whine. Nice suit. Obviously very experienced. Seemed to keep a neat notebook from what Martin could tell. He had written with care, not waved his hand in scribbles all over the page.

Martin had agreed to come again the next Tuesday night, barring anything unusual. He had also, _very_ reluctantly, agreed to keep the option open for further sessions. He had tried to talk the therapist out of this but the man had pointed out that discussions often veered into unexpected territory and, while he understood that Martin had no wish to do therapy each week ad nauseam, he needed to know that the option to go on was there. At least for a while, he had said, while the knowledge of the deaths was still new.

Driving along the winding roads, Martin did not turn on the radio as was his usual custom when driving alone at night. He began to think back over what he had discussed with Winchell. The man had asked about his lunch with Luk and Martin had been forced to explain that, yes, he and Luk were friends but that he had deliberately not chosen to talk about his news because it would just be an annoyance for him, Martin. Further, he explained that he had gotten sick, he thought, because of the shocking type of news right before eating grilled fish that was always a bit greasy, even though it shouldn't be.

Winchell had asked about what Martin had done when he felt ill and when Martin had told him about walking up to the cliff and being sick, he had wanted Martin to describe in detail what had happened. Martin, honest to a fault, had been unable to tell the story without admitting that he had almost cried when he saw Louisa, but again he had put this down to being caught unawares, feeling ill, and standing on a windy cliff. "Wind often makes the eyes water," he had reminded Winchell.

"In what other ways has your wife shown her support?" Winchell had asked. Martin had been taken aback at this question for he knew of no way to answer without being completely embarrassed. He was certain that he had blushed bright red and had just answered that she had seemed to understand and had attempted to comfort him.

At one point, Winchell had asked Martin about being a surgeon. Like any medical professional, he knew that moving from being a surgeon to being a GP, London to Portwenn, had to have a story behind it. And Martin had been forced to talk about the haemophobia. But, he had used the story to talk about how he had conquered the problem with one therapy session and then working on his own with CDs. He hoped this would let the man know how quickly he wanted all of this to finish.

In the end, Winchell had indeed given Martin some "homework." During the following week, he asked Martin to make notes at lunch, supper and bedtime of thoughts about his parents that came to him. Whatever thoughts he had, he should write them down - just enough so that when he came next week he could remember them and talk about them. Phone conversations about the estates, memories that came to mind, something that reminded him of one or both of them, perhaps something James Henry did that he would have liked for them to know, had things been different - anything was fair game.

Martin had agreed. He didn't think the assignment would be difficult because he didn't think about his parents. Most likely the only things I will have to write are short notes about conversations with the solicitor. Maybe some little conversation with Ruth. No problem. He hurried home to his family.

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Mr. Winchell had given a low whistle when Martin had driven away. Buttoned up tight, that one, he thought. What a need for control! Almost no introspection. This is going to take every bit of skill I have ever gained. Just getting him to realize how often his thoughts likely went to his parents should help them get started. He hoped so. He liked Ellingham despite his manner. And the blushing! He laughed to himself. His wife must be something special. Just to put up with him for one thing, but she must be extremely warm and loving to break through that armor. He hoped he could help. He feared for Ellingham if he could not.

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When Martin got home, he found Louisa on the couch, doing some reading. James Henry was asleep. Louisa smiled when he came in, crossed her fingers on one hand under her skirt and motioned for Martin to come and sit by her with the other hand. She would try to wait on him to talk although she was dying to know what had happened. She chewed on her lip as she tried to think of a way to get Martin to say something. "How was your trip?" she finally asked.

"Fine," Martin said. He wanted to go and read but he knew he would have to tell Louisa something. He tried to think of a way to make this quick. "He asked a lot of questions and gave me some notetaking to do. I will need to go back next week, and probably at least once more after that. Will Tuesday of next week work with your schedule, do you think?"

"As far as I know it is fine, Martin, but if I have something, I will re-schedule it. I think this is very important."

"Well, I have to say I thought he was adequate as therapists go. Very neat house. Dressed in a suit. Got down to business quickly and stopped right on time. I think he will see next time, that this need not be drawn out. We will get this talked out and he will see I am definitely fine. I can let Aunt Ruth know that I have taken her advice and this will be finished." He paused. "I am going to read in bed now if that is okay with you?"

"Sure Martin," Louisa answered. "I will be up in a minute. Almost finished here." She uncrossed her fingers as he walked away and gave a silent cheer. A chink in the wall!

Martin left the room and went upstairs. He peeked into James Henry's room for a quick look, then decided to go over and touch him just to be sure he was comfortable and not too hot. He walked over to the crib and looked down at the tiny blond head. The little hands were stretched out in sweet abandon on the soft sheet. Dear God, he thought as he reached for James' head, did Mum ever think I looked so wonderful? Did she feel of my head to be sure I was comfortable?

Damn, he thought. Now I have to find a sheet of paper!


	19. Chapter 19

**Doc Martin and all recognizable characters belong to Buffalo Pictures. This is a work of fiction and for entertainment only. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**We have a winner! 100 points go to ke0212 for the answer Mrs. Dunwich! (aka Harry Potter's Professor Sprout) When she was holding a gun on the Doc, even after Ruth had just corrected him, he called her Mrs. Winchelsea! Congratulations to the Trivia Master!**

Chapter 19

During the next few days, Martin did indeed write several notes about conversations with the solicitor. Aunt Ruth came over at lunch on Thursday. She knew already, from Louisa, that Martin had gone to see the counselor, was planning to go again, and was taking notes of times he thought of his parents. She knew it might help if she prodded this along so she decided to pop in, unannounced, and try to help her nephew without his realizing it. She knew this would be hard to do, as he usually discerned ulterior motives very quickly just as she did herself, but she thought if she talked about the estates, she just might get away with it.

Martin was in the kitchen having soup when he saw her walk by the window. He sighed internally as he walked to the door. Louisa had mentioned running into Ruth and telling her that Martin had followed her advice so he had expected a visit at some point.

"Good afternoon Martin," Ruth said as he opened the door.

"Come in then," he said with a bit of hurry in his voice. Perhaps he could make this a short visit.

"Well thanks for such a welcoming greeting. So...I guess Louisa has told you that she saw me?" she asked.

"Yes," said Martin.

"And you found Winchell to be acceptable?" she continued.

"Yes," said Martin.

"You are going again?"

"Yes," said Martin.

"Oh for goodness sake Martin!" Ruth said. "Can I have a bit more conversation please?"

"What would you like for me to say?" Martin asked.

"I would like for you to give me a bit of detail. Quite frankly I would like to know a bit about your session. I know you value privacy over almost everything but I am family you know," she continued, "and I do care."

Martin groaned inwardly. "Winchell seems fine. We started on time and ended on time. He was very professional but seemed to understand that these sessions can not and do not need to go on forever." Here he paused. "But I am going back on Tuesday and probably once more after that," he added quickly.

Ruth knew better than to let Martin know she was happy about this development. Tread lightly, she thought. "And did he find the circumstances strange? The deaths and our not knowing of them until so long after they happened?" she asked.

"Yes, he did seem very surprised that you nor I had been a part of the services."

"What about the estates? Did he ask about what difference this work would make in your already limited leisure time and, if I may know, did he ask about how you had been feeling physically since Phelps' phone call?" She put a hand up slightly when she saw the evidence of Martin's growing impatience on his face. "I am just concerned about his methods," she said.

Martin could tell that Aunt Ruth was not about to be put off about this, so decided that the best way to keep this from going on much longer was to summarize the session quickly for her. "He did not talk about the estate work but he did ask about my physical health and I told him about becoming ill. We discussed the haemophobia as well, as I'm sure you are wondering. He wanted to know about Louisa's support and he gave me an assignment. He has me taking notes three times per day of thoughts I have of Mum and Dad. So far those have consisted mostly of synopses of my phone conversations with the solicitor."

"Mostly synopses. Any other notes?" Ruth asked.

"Well, now I will have to note down this conversation," Martin replied with disdain.

"Really. That is all you have written Martin? I just find that a bit hard to believe. I mean, generally when ones' parents die, memories surface rather quickly. I would have thought you would have had at least a few of those to write down," Ruth said.

Martin remained silent. He _had _written about the visit to James' bedside and, generally at night, he had admitted to himself that a memory or two had surfaced during the course of the day, especially, it seemed, when he had seen children at the surgery. What to tell her to end this ridiculous conversation? "I have had one or two notes about memories or things I have wondered about." he said. "The first night, I think because Winchell had given the assignment, I went into James' room, looked down at him, and I did wonder if Mum had ever done that with me. I'm sure she didn't. She hired the nanny fairly quickly after my birth I understand, so I am sure she rarely came into the nursery. She certainly never came into my room as I was growing up," he said with a note of anger in his voice.

"And the memories?" Ruth questioned gently.

"Mostly just memories about visits to the doctor with my nanny for check-ups and to other places as well. At my doctor's office I used to look around the reception area and note that the other children were with their mums or dads, being held or cuddled, and wonder, when I knew very well that my mother was at home, why she didn't bring me to the doctor instead of sending me with the nanny." He paused. "I'm sure she was just busy though, organizing some charity ball or something," he added in a voice that still held a question. Surprisingly he continued. "I thought about Aunty Joan and Uncle Phil as well. They always seemed happy to see me and didn't mind awfully when I wet the bed, or was afraid of their animals and I thought about how I couldn't remember even one occasion on which I felt that my parents were happy to see me. Happy to see the back of me mostly, it seemed, when I got into the taxi and left for school. I remembered one episode in particular." He stopped short and seemed to pull himself out of his reverie. "Of course this is all rubbish! I wouldn't even be thinking of these things had Winchell not given me the assignment," he said.

"Martin," Aunt Ruth said gently, "I am not sure that is quite true. It has been my experience that thoughts such as these are usually, and quite normally I would add, in the minds of children of such dysfunctional parents as you had. They lay dormant, but are subconsciously loud, nevertheless. I think that your assignment is just helping you to realize that they have been there all the time."

"Perhaps," Martin said in an unusual moment of introspection. "Well, he said, standing, "I am afraid I must crack on Aunt Ruth. The next patients will be here shortly and I need to finish my soup before it gets completely cold."

"By all means eat, Martin," Ruth said. "And thank you for the conversation. It was...nice." she said. "I'll be off then.

She walked over to the door and out. Martin closed the door behind her, sighed, got out a sheet of paper and wrote notes while he finished his soup.

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Bert came into the surgery on Friday morning. Louisa had mentioned to Martin that if he saw Bert he really should thank him personally for the gift of food. Martin could just say that Louisa had particularly enjoyed the desserts, which was true, and Bert would be happy. She asked Martin to do this, if not for himself, to please do it for her and so he had agreed.

When Bert came into the consulting room, Martin decided to get the thank you over with as soon as possible. He had Bert to sit up on the couch and went to pick up his stethoscope. "Bert," he said, "Louisa and I would like to thank you for your sympathy and gifts. Louisa particularly enjoyed the desserts. It was kind of you."

As Martin began to listen to his heartbeat, Bert began to speak, as usual. "Louisa put you up to that, didn't she Doc? Oh well, you are welcome. And how are things coming along with the "afters?" he asked.

Martin stopped what he was doing and looked at Bert. Surely he had not found out about the counseling. What did he mean? "Afters?" he asked.

"Yeah Doc, you know, all of the paperwork, trips to the bank, the solicitor, all of that trouble. I still remember how hard that was after my Mary died and that was years ago. You want to have time for grieving but you don't cuz you are signing your name over and over."

Martin breathed a small sigh of relief. "Well Bert, the 'afters' as you say, are progressing fine. Fortunately I have a London solicitor who is taking care of most everything for me. Good man."

"Yeah but that don't help with the other, do it? The grieving, I mean," Bert asked.

"Um, no, it does not affect that part," Martin finished and began to examine Bert again.

Bert opened his mouth to talk some more but Martin held up his hand. "Shut up Bert," he said.

After the exam Martin gave Bert his usual warning about continuing to follow his diet and wrote some follow-up prescriptions. Bert finally left and Martin breathed a sigh of relief.

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Late that afternoon, when the last patient had left and Martin was still in his consulting room finishing some reports, he heard music coming from one of the living areas. He wondered where on earth it was coming from as he knew Morwenna had already left for the day. He got up and followed the sound into the den. He peered in from the doorway and saw Louisa, holding James Henry in a "parent and baby" dance position, and Luk holding Emily in the same way.

The song that Roger had dedicated to him was playing on the computer and Luk and Louisa were swaying back and forth with their little ones, looking into the children's eyes and laughing. Every once in a while either Louisa or Luk would join in on the words which Martin had memorized as he was reading the poem on Youtube. Martin then remembered that Natalie was coming to bring some more sympathy cards this afternoon and he thought that Luk must be waiting to meet her here. Not wanting to interrupt and possibly be asked to join in, Martin stepped back from the doorway so that no one saw him.

Suddenly he felt dizzy and had to sit down on one of the steps. His mind flew back into the past. He was twelve and in a large room with a gleaming wooden floor. He had finished his compulsory dance lessons at his boarding school and the parents had been invited for a dance. He could see, in his mind's eye, his mum in a beautiful blue dress, sequined and fitted, looking lovely but completely bored. He sat beside her at the table with a glum look, watching his classmates dancing around the room with their parents, laughing and talking.

He had not enjoyed the dance instruction at all, but, as with all his lessons, Martin had excelled. His teacher had complimented him several times which had, of course, resulted in more bullying by his classmates. But he knew that he was supposed to have at least one dance with his mum. He had attempted to ask her to dance, but she had pretended not to hear as she watched her husband walking around the room, flirting with all of the other women. Martin could even smell the scent of the gardenia blossoms that were in the middle of each table.

He finally brought himself back to the room in the surgery, heart pounding, and sick to his stomach. He quietly got up, climbed the stairs quickly, went into the toilet, and calmly vomited his lunch.


	20. Chapter 20

**Doc Martin and all recognizable characters belong to Buffalo Pictures. This is a work of fiction and is for entertainment only. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Thanks to the "Guest" reviewer who also guessed Mrs. Dunwich correctly! Two trivia masters!**

Chapter 20

At bedtime, Louisa found Martin sitting up with a pillow behind his back, reading a medical journal as he so often did. She was afraid to say much and so hadn't asked him about how his note-taking was going. She was secretly trying to make herself feel okay about taking a peek at his notes. She told herself he wasn't bothering to hide them, she was his wife after all, and only wanted to help him. She couldn't allow herself to do it however. She felt that violating his privacy that way would be terrible and so, here she sat, wanting so badly to know what was in the journal on his nightstand

Finally she drew in a breath and asked in what she thought of as an offhand manner, "So Martin, how are the notes coming for Mr. Winchell?"

He looked up for a moment, frowned and said "Fine," and went back to his reading.

She chewed her lip. Oh, this was so frustrating. She knew that these memories, thoughts, conversations, were so important for him to bring to the surface. She didn't know if he could do it though. She had finally broken down and talked to Natalie about it. She needed someone she could trust. Natalie had agreed that seeing a therapist at this point was probably a good idea. Natalie's father had gone through a long bout of depression when he was just past fifty, and she knew the benefits of counseling firsthand. Her advice to Louisa was listen, listen, listen and pray. Pray for strength to allow Martin the time he needed, pray for the right words to say, and pray to allow Martin to rest in God's hands, because these kinds of wounds need the care that God gives so freely.

Louisa had never been one to pray much but she was learning now. Sometimes she wasn't sure God was listening when she prayed but sometimes she would pray on her way to school after dropping the baby off at Anne's home. Being outside with the familiar sounds of the ocean and the gulls allowed her to feel connected with God somehow. She had talked to Natalie about this too. "Often our prayer and connectedness does depend on where we are. Find the place that's right for you and stick with it," Natalie had said.

The "listen, listen, listen" part was not easy either. Louisa liked to talk things out and Martin needed things to be quiet. She thought she probably could have listened if she had anything to listen to, but she tried to make as few comments as possible when Martin _did_ say anything about what was going on. He was keeping her updated on the status of the estates so that had become a good time to practice her listening skills.

Things were progressing well with the solicitor. He had thankfully found out that Martin's father had not been involved in anything unlawful. He had, however, done a LOT of gambling and had become quite skillful at cards, playing often at his club for huge sums of money. Evidently the men who had buried him had done so as cheaply as possible and with not a hint of sorrow because now Ellingham would no longer be taking their money at the tables of the club. When the solicitor had been doing his investigating, the men had learned of it and had presented Martin with the bill from the funeral home, expecting to be reimbursed. Martin had given his solicitor permission to do so and that was now out of the way.

Louisa was very glad to hear that her late father-in-law had not done anything unlawful. She had had quite enough of that with her own father. She and Martin had indeed decided to put the flat up for sale as soon as possible and invest the money for James Henry. The property in Portugal was being purchased by Phelps. An appraisal had been done of the villa and, since they both thought the price was fair, Martin had offered it to Phelps first. The man had gladly taken him up on the offer and the details were being worked out. This money, too, was to be put aside for James Henry.

Still, though, Louisa really wanted to know about the notes. Was Martin able to be aware enough of his own thoughts that he could write them down, or were they buried so deep that he no longer had access? No, she had seen that during times of crisis he seemed quite able to break down his walls and pour out his heart. Hadn't he done that when Mrs. Tishell had taken James Henry? But surely it would not take a crisis like that for him to be able to make strides forward in this therapy, would it?

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Tuesday evening came round quickly and found Martin in the Lexus travelling toward Winchell's home. He dreaded the visit. But, as he knew it would be the last one, he figured he could tolerate it. He had realized during the week, especially after the "dance incident" as he now thought of it, that doing therapy was not a good idea for him. Just as he had told Ruth, he had no problem with his parents. They had been estranged. Those things happened. They were gone now and the loose ends just needed tying up. All of this note-taking was making a problem where none had previously existed. Bringing up the past was a waste of his time.

He was sure that Winchell wouldn't see it that way, though. After all, the man made a living out of this. Well, he won't make a living off of me, Martin thought. I will just tell Aunt Ruth that the sessions are at an end. I am an adult and know what is best for myself.

Martin arrived just at seven and Winchell was waiting at the door. He had a carafe of water and two glasses on a table in the room and Martin accepted a glass this time.

Winchell noticed that he did not see a notebook of any sort on Martin's person. His forehead creased. He had thought sure that Ellingham would at least _try_ the note-taking. Perhaps it was in the inner pocket of his suit jacket, he thought. Best get on with it, he decided.

"Well, Dr. Ellingham, and how have you been since we last met?" Winchell asked as they sat down.

"Fine," Martin answered.

"Have things been busy for you at the surgery?" Winchell asked.

"Yes," Martin answered.

"Have you made time for the note-taking we discussed?" Winchell continued.

Martin was silent for a moment. "Mr. Winchell, I began taking notes on the evening that I left. I continued until Thursday and then decided it was prudent that I stop," Martin said. "As I told you last time, I really think that this whole enterprise is completely unnecessary. My so-called "conflicted" feelings toward my parents are, in fact, non-existent. Bringing up the past has not been helpful, the opposite in fact, and I have decided to stop. I appreciate your time but I have decided that I do not need therapy."

Mr. Winchell steepled his hands in front of him. He had expected this, he had just hoped it wouldn't come so soon. Something must have really bothered Ellingham badly this week. He wondered if he had been ill again. He decided that, since Ellingham was a doctor, he would stick to the physical symptoms. "Well Doctor Ellingham," he said, "I am certainly sorry to hear you say this. Of course I understand if you feel this way and you are certainly free to leave whenever you wish. I am curious about one thing though, if you don't mind indulging me?"

Martin sighed internally. Oh God, he thought. Well one question won't hurt. "Certainly," he said.

"I just wondered how you have been feeling physically this week? Have you had any more episodes of illness?" Winchell asked.

Martin was silent. Damn the man, he thought. I do NOT wish to talk about this! I don't have to, he said to himself. You should, another part of himself said. The more he thought about it this last voice sounded a lot like Louisa, Luk, and Aunt Ruth.

"Doctor?" Winchell asked, interrupting Martin's internal conversation.

"Well, actually on Thursday I had a small episode of illness, but I am sure that it came from something I ate. After having the haemophobia, the slightest thing can sometimes make me ill. I believe I developed a hypersensitivity."

"So you were ill soon after you had eaten?" Winchell pressed.

"Actually it was a few hours later, but that can sometimes happen as I am sure you know," Martin replied.

"And were you still seeing patients when this episode occurred?" Winchell continued.

"No, I had finished for the day." Martin replied in a more quiet voice.

"So it was _quite a few_ hours later that you fell ill. Can you tell me what was happening when you started to feel sick?" Winchell asked.

Martin had had enough. "Mr. Winchell, I appreciate that you are attempting to do your job. However, I fail to see how this discussion is relevant. As you know, I am a doctor. I think I would know if there was anything unusual about my sickness on Thursday!" Martin said.

"What makes you think that _I_ think it was unusual, Doctor Ellingham?" Mr. Winchell asked.

"You obviously think so or you wouldn't keep discussing it and asking questions!" Martin answered.

"On the contrary, Doctor, I don't think your illness was unusual at all. I just happen to believe that there is a different reason for it than you do," Winchell said calmly. "If a patient came to you saying that they had vomited this many hours after a meal, would you think it unusual?" he continued.

"No, not necessarily. This could easily be a case of food poisoning," Martin replied.

"Do you think you had food poisoning on Thursday Doctor Ellingham?" Winchell asked.

Martin was almost seething now. He wanted to leave. "Mr. Winchell," he said in his very clipped tone, " I have already told you that I believe I developed a hypersensitivity after several years of having haemophobia and being, by the circumstances of my job, unable to avoid blood. I cannot see why you or anyone would think it unusual that I sometimes vomit easily."

Mr. Winchell softened his tone even more. I will not rise, he thought, although Ellingham's manner was quite offensive by this point. He knew he was close to getting to what really caused the illness - if he could just get there before the man walked out the door. "So are you saying to me that it is not unusual for you to vomit up your lunch right before you eat supper, Doctor?"

Martin deflated. His perfectionism was digging into him. He needed to tell the whole truth. Quickly though, his ire began to rise again. Fine, he would tell the truth, but in such a way as to make this gentleman understand that he was finished here. He began. "Mr. Winchell," he answered more calmly. "Yes, it is unusual for me to be ill from lunch right before supper. If you must know, I had a very bad memory right before the illness. But I do not think the memory _caused_ the illness. Wait!" he said as he saw Winchell take in a breath to begin asking questions again. "It was a memory involving my parents and I must tell you that, as I said earlier, taking these notes has only caused me to bring up a past I have long forgotten because it is no longer necessary or helpful to remember it. If you had not suggested this "method" I would have never thought of this or any of the other memories because I do not think about my parents. I am not hurt or conflicted. I am INDIFFERENT!" Martin ended, speaking more vehemently than he had intended.

Martin stood to leave. Mr. Winchell remained calm. "Doctor Ellingham," he said kindly, "in your best interests, I must differ with you on your last statements. The method we are using only brings out thoughts that are in the mind already, not things that have been forgotten. The note-taking only makes you pay attention to your subconscious. Secondly, your body language and vocal tone reveal that you ARE hurting. And third, I do not believe it is possible for anyone to be indifferent about dysfunctional parents such as your aunt, whose work I greatly admire, obviously believes you had. Maybe one in a million, but that is all. Typically one feels anger, sadness or hurt, but rarely ever does one feel indifference."


	21. Chapter 21

**Doc Martin and all recognizable characters belong to Buffalo Pictures. This is a work of fiction and is for entertainment only. No copyright infringement is intended.**

Chapter 21

"Well, I disagree, Mr. Winchell," Martin said. "With all due respect I think that I know myself better than you do after only two visits. Now please, I would like to leave."

"Of course, Doctor," Mr. Winchell said as he stood and began to walk toward the door. His mind was quickly going through things he knew and intuited about Martin to try to think of something to stop him from walking out the door. At last he thought about Martin's rigid sense of obligation. Perhaps that could be the key. "I had so hoped that we could have at least one more full conversation," he said. "That is why I had opposed setting a certain amount of appointments from the outset."

"Hmm," Martin grunted.

This was the moment, Winchell thought. If he will stay here and tell me this, we can likely get somewhere at some point. If he leaves,...?

Martin's strict sense of honesty welled up inside of him. He had given his word that he would come for at least two sessions and this had really not been a session as much as an extended goodbye. If I sit down and just tell him this, I can leave with a clear conscience, he thought. He turned, went back to the couch and sat down on the edge. He would explain the memory and leave. Then he would have done what he had said. "Fine," he said."I will tell you about this one last memory, that will complete two sessions, and then I will go."

Winchell sat back down, nodded and motioned for Martin to begin.

"On Thursday, I was finishing paperwork in my consulting room at the end of the day and heard music. When I went to find the source of the music, I saw my wife dancing with James Henry and Luk dancing with his daughter Emily. They were all...smiling and singing. The babies were obviously enjoying themselves. I remembered that Luk's wife Natalie was coming over after she closed her shop and knew that Luk and Emily were waiting for her. I did not wish to interrupt and so I stepped away from the door. I sat down on the steps outside of the doorway and suddenly had a memory of myself sitting at a table with my mother in a ballroom when I was twelve. We..." Martin stopped. He had done it. That was sufficient surely.

"What were you doing in a ballroom when you were twelve, if I may ask?" Winchell questioned, wondering all the while if Ellingham would answer more questions when he had clearly completed his self-imposed "requirement."

"I had completed dance instruction at my boarding school and we were there with the parents showing what we had learned. It was compulsory," Martin decided to tell him.

Winchell sat quietly and waited to see if Martin would get up or continue. When neither happened, he asked, "What did the ballroom look like?"

"The walls were white and decorated with mirrors. The floors were gleaming hardwoods. There were flowers, gardenias, on the tables," Martin said in a much softer voice than Winchell had heard so far from him. A voice tinged with sadness.

"And did you dance, Doctor Ellingham?" Winchell asked, pushing his luck once more.

"No. According to the class rules, I was supposed to have a dance with my mother. I had asked her but she did not... she _pretended_ not to hear me. She was watching my father. He was walking around the room, flirting with every woman in the place." Martin said this last in a disgusted tone of voice.

"Did she ever dance with you," Winchell asked, "or did you sit all evening at the table with the gardenias?"

"No, she never did. Fortunately the instructor must not have noticed because my grade was not affected." Martin said. In a low voice he added, "I hate gardenias."

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Martin drove home in silence, his mind awhirl. Fine though. He was finished. He had gone not just once, but twice. He had proven that therapy was not for him. They always want to bring up the past and go over it. It is finished. It does not affect my life now. Yes, I got ill when I heard that my parents were dead but I am certainly not the only person to have that happen.

Thursday, though? Well, he told himself, if you have someone forcing you to remember things that pained you at the time, of course it is going to be upsetting and I certainly vomit easily. Hypersensitivity!

I don't need this. Enough, he thought. I have a family, a busy medical practice and my hobby. I do not need anything else to have to spend time on. But the letter. The letter Winchell mentioned.

After Martin had finished talking about the ballroom memory, he had stood up to leave. As he was shaking hands and saying goodbye, Winchell had said, "Doctor Ellingham, I appreciate you coming to meet with me and the work that you have done. Please feel free to return if you decide to do so in the future. If you don't mind, I would like to recommend one more writing activity that you might do which applies to today - it does not, however, involve writing any memories, at least not the type you have been writing."

Martin had sighed internally. These people never quit, do they, he thought. "What is it then?" Martin had asked.

"I think it would be a helpful activity to write a letter to your son. It might even be a letter that you actually plan to give him at a later age, say twelve or thirteen, or upon his graduation. Or you can just write it and keep it or even throw it away without showing it to anyone. But in the letter, I think you should write the things that you want your son to know that you feel and think about him - maybe some things that you are already noticing about him, things you want him to remember, words of wisdom - that sort of thing."

"And why on earth would I want to do something like that? For what purpose? He is not even one year old!" Martin had said.

"Oh, it is just a little something that I often suggest that clients do if they have young children. Someone suggested to me that I do this when my oldest was an infant and I did, and I have always been glad of it. I kept the letter until he got married and I gave it to him then. He told me later that it was the most meaningful thing that I had ever given him. I did it for the rest of my children also. Since then, I have recommended it to lots of people. It usually turns out to be a really helpful exercise."

"Fine. I will think about it," Martin had said. "Thank you for your time."

"Good night Doctor. My door is always open," Winchell had said.

They said goodbye and Martin had walked out into a rainy night. Winchell shook his head. Well, at least he had gotten him to explain the memory. No wonder the poor sod fell ill. To see your wife dancing along with your laughing baby, smiling and singing, and then to remember something horrible like that - it boggles the mind the way we hurt each other in families sometimes. Hopefully the letter writing will bring him back. If he tries it. Winchell counted on Martin's sense of rule-keeping and his need to prove himself to himself, to influence him to do the writing. Fingers crossed, he thought.


	22. Chapter 22

**Doc Martin and all recognizable characters belong to Buffalo Pictures. This is a work of fiction and is for entertainment only. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Reviews are very much appreciated!**

Chapter 22

Louisa was still awake and watching television when Martin came in. Martin did not care very much for TV but he would occasionally watch something with Louisa, usually a documentary. When she had an evening to herself like this, she reverted back to some of her old favorite shows. She had enjoyed some comedy this evening, but was relieved when Martin walked in. She always worried a bit when he was out at night in poor weather. The squalls that came up at the coast were terrible sometimes.

"Good evening?" she asked Martin.

"Fine," Martin said in a somewhat subdued tone. He could feel a headache building between his eyes and really wanted to lie down. "Louisa, I think driving in the rain has given me a headache. If you don't mind, I am going to go to bed."

"Sure Martin," she said, looking concerned. "Is there anything I can do for you? I will be glad to get you some paracetamol and water," she said.

"No, but thank you," he said as he turned around to climb the stairs.

Martin brushed his teeth, put on pyjamas and got into bed. The conversation from the evening went round and round in his mind. He couldn't tune out Winchell's voice. "Rarely does one feel indifference," he had said. "Rarely." Well, Martin thought, I have always been different from people around me. God knows my parents told me that enough times. So I guess I am the rare one to feel indifferent. I am not hurt, he thought. They can't hurt me. I am an adult.

At last he turned off the light and tried to fall asleep. Louisa came in and saw that he already had his eyes closed but she knew he wasn't asleep. She had learned to recognize the difference in his breathing by now. "Martin," she said in a quiet voice, "will you be going back next Tuesday?"

Martin shook his head and said, "No."

Louisa walked into the loo and turned on the light, looked in the mirror, and started to cry silently.

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When Saturday morning rolled around, Martin woke at his customary hour even though this was the weekend he did not have surgery appointments. He left Louisa sleeping and went into his consulting room after having a quick breakfast. He had an old habit of always keeping some watermarked writing paper in his office. He rarely used it, but it was ingrained from his boarding school days to always have some available. He took out a sheet and lay it down on the desk in front of him. He wanted to write this letter and get it over with.

"Dear James Henry," he wrote. He held the pen in his hand and stared ahead at the opposite wall. What was I supposed to write, he asked himself. Words of wisdom, things I would want him to know about how he was as an infant, things I want him to know that_ I_ feel and think about him. He rubbed his chin. Oh God, he thought, what would I want him to know about himself?

He began to write, "Your mother and I were so happy when you were born. You should have seen your mum's face - she was radiant! You did not sleep well when you were first at home. Your mum couldn't stand to let you cry and so you were held a lot. But once you started eating more, you began to be a regular sleeper. You smiled a lot too, especially at your mum and your little friend Emily."

Here Martin stopped and stared a bit more. What do I think and feel about him? He began to write again. "Everyone in the village thought that you looked like me when we brought you home. Heaven help you if your ears become like mine. I don't think they will though. It would be rare for that to happen after several months of age. Sometimes when I hold you at night..." Here Martin stopped. His eyes were tearing. Why were his eyes tearing? A teardrop fell down onto the ink and it began to run. Martin crumpled up the paper and tossed it into the bin. He rubbed his eyes for a moment.

He pulled out another sheet of paper. "Dear James Henry," he wrote. "Your mother and I were extremely happy when you were born. Your mum was radiant. You were a healthy weight and length, but did not sleep well for a while. Your mum picked you up whenever you cried and so you were held a lot. Once I even took you on a drive out on the moor to try and get you to sleep but a farmer awakened us both with a loud horn. When you started eating more you began to sleep more regularly. You smiled a lot too, especially at your mum and your friend Emily. "

"As you grew you tended to be a healthy baby. Your weight and height measured in the eightieth to ninetieth percentiles. During your first nine months, you did not fall ill except for two very short-lived cold viruses, so I felt that your immune system was certainly functioning properly. Your mum and I read to you, with me reading primarily from medical journals and your mum from children's books, particularly one about a sentient fire engine. You would often smile a lot when one of us was reading."

Here Martin's pen began to falter. He had decided that he needed to follow Winchell's instructions to have the letter contain his own thoughts and feelings about his son, but he was not used to thinking about things like that. What did he feel about James Henry? He went back to his last paragraph and added, "You seemed to like music." Feel? What do I feel?

Martin now heard Louisa up and around in the kitchen preparing James' breakfast. He put the letter into his drawer and went out to get some coffee. "Good morning," he said to Louisa. He patted James Henry's hand.

"Morning," Louisa said. She paused and then, as if thinking very deliberately, gave Martin a kiss on the cheek.

Louisa sat down and began to feed the baby. James ate well, as usual. Louisa was unusually quiet. Martin was thankful, since he was still trying to consider the letter he needed to write. He sat quietly, sipping his coffee and finally thought to himself, rubbish! I don't have to write this letter. Perhaps I will at some point but not today. Louisa has been awfully quiet. Usually getting outside will bring a smile. Perhaps I can get her to take the baby for a walk. "Louisa," Martin said. "It looks like it will be a nice day today. Have you thought about taking James outside? Perhaps he will do more walking while holding your hands."

"Yes, Martin, that is probably a good idea," Louisa said, without a great deal of enthusiasm. "If you can mind him for me after I finish here, I will get up and take a shower and then get him ready to go out. You could come and walk with us," she said in a questioning tone.

"Will you be going down into the village?" he asked. She nodded.

"I think I will come out later then, when you come back home. When you get back, come in and get me and we can walk up the hill together," Martin said.

Louisa had decided she needed to talk to Natalie so this was probably for the best. She could let James down in the store and keep hold of his hands so that he could practice his "walking." Walking, she thought. It won't be long until he lets go, she thought, and then we will really have to rearrange this place. I'm sure Martin will just love that!

A while later Louisa put an unhappy boy into the buggy, said goodbye to Martin and left for the chemist. "I will let you out when we get there, my little man," she said to James Henry. "I know you don't like to ride but this hill is still a bit steep for your little legs," she continued.

At last, she reached Natalie's shop. She reached down to get James out of the buggy. A crowd had gathered outside of the shop but, as tourists were already starting to flock into the village - it was almost the end of term - she ignored them until she heard her name. "Louisa, Louisa!" someone called. She continued to hold James and walked toward the sound. Al was sitting on the ground with his foot in his hand, face creased in pain.

She picked up her pace and pushed through the small crowd. "Al, what's wrong?" she asked and then noticed the blood coming from his foot.

"Out for a run and like an idiot wore my old trainers this morning." Listening to my Ipod, not paying attention, and ran right over this bunch of glass. Cut looks pretty deep. I tried to stand but it seemed to make the blood pour. I know this is the wrong Saturday, but do you think the Doc would come down here? " Al asked.

'Yes, I'm sure he will Al. Just let me give him a call." Louisa answered. She got out her mobile, called Martin and explained the situation. "He'll be right down," Louisa said when she rang off. Martin had sounded so angry, muttering about imbeciles messing up the streets and morons not watching where they were going.

Luk came out of the shop holding Emily. "Al, what happened?" he asked. "Do I need to go and bring some gauze?"

"Yeah, Father, that might be a good idear," Al said, still trying to stem the flow with his socks. The crowd slowly dispersed, being mainly tourists and not really interested now that things seemed to be getting under control.

Luk went in and came back out with a roll of gauze. He had given Emily to a parishoner who was in the shop and now he began to fold up the gauze into a pad and place pressure on Al's foot. "Martin is on his way, Luk," Louisa said.

"Good because this definitely looks like it will need stitches," Luk said.

In moments Martin came running down the hill carrying his bag. "Out of the way," he said rather loudly. "Luk can you move so that I can see what is going on!" he continued. "What the hell were you thinking Al?" Martin said, for he had caught sight of Al's trainers. "This is definitely going to require stitches. You run often, why in the world would you wear those old things?" Martin asked.

"Sorry Doc, my others were damp because I had cleaned 'em up last night and I wasn't planning a long run today," Al said as Martin dressed the wound for the trip up the hill.

Martin began issuing orders. "Louisa call Penhale and call him off of whatever fool's errand he is running and get him down here to clean up this glass." "Melanie," Martin said to the teen who had once had a crush on him, "stand here until Penhale arrives so that no one else gets cut. I will never understand why these idiotic tourists come out of the pub with glass bottles and just drop them on the street when there is plainly a bin three feet away!"

Luk was supporting Al and he spoke. "Martin, my car is just up the street. Let me go and get it and we will drive Al up to the surgery."

"Fine, " Martin said as he went to support Al and wait for Luk and the car.


	23. Chapter 23

**Doc Martin and all recognizable characters belong to Buffalo Pictures. This is a work of fiction and is for entertainment only. No copyright infringement is intended.**

Chapter 23

After Luk and Martin took Al away, Louisa went back into the chemist's shop. She felt close to tears as she walked in because she was so weary of Martin yelling at everyone when an accident happened. She knew that no one could give Al better care, but Martin had even raised his voice to Luk.

Natalie noticed that Louisa looked upset and motioned for her to wait until she finished up with some tourists who had wandered in. Finally she came over to where Louisa was. Natalie was holding Emily, the parishioner having given her back, and both of the young mothers began holding their little ones' hands and letting them walk in the store. "What's wrong Louisa? You look as if you are upset," Natalie asked.

"I am, Natalie. I haven't gotten to talk to you this week but….. Martin went to his session on Tuesday night and when he returned he said he isn't going back. He has been keeping to himself a lot of the time, shutting me out - you know - and now he comes down here bangin' on about everyone being idiots and morons. He even raised his voice to Luk!" Louisa said. "And Natalie, I have been trying to pray, but I must be doing it wrong because I wanted so much for Martin to keep seeing the therapist. I just don't understand how..."

Natalie picked up Emily, put her on one hip and reached to give Louisa an awkward hug. "Louisa," she said, " when it comes to prayer, one of the hardest things for all of us to remember, even the 'veteran' pray-ers, is that God is not like Father Christmas. When I pray, I tend to ask God to give me the strength to do something, or the patience to wait, or to show me how to help someone else. Sometimes I just sit and wait to sense God's presence. And when it comes to therapy, unfortunately we can't usually make our loved ones go. They have to see that they need it, or they will go and nothing good will come of it. Maybe the thing to pray for now, and I will join you, is for patience to wait Martin out, courage to love him even when he is acting out right now, and wisdom to say the right things when you get the chance. Martin is a very special man, Louisa. He'll come round, I think."

"I love Martin, Natalie, but I wish I could be as sure as you are. He's always been a, well, a difficult person. And his relationships with his parents were...terrible. I haven't told you much of it because Martin is such a private person, but I think he needs to...oh, I don't know. Maybe I should go and see that counselor myself, " Louisa said.

"That might not be a bad idea Louisa. Why don't you ask Luk what he thinks? He's usually good with advice about things like that," Natalie said.

00000000000000000000000000000000

When she and James Henry got home, Al and Luk had left. Louisa opened the door to call for Martin to see if he still wanted to walk. He came out of his consulting room with a clock tool in hand. He sighed when she asked if he would like to walk, but did at least go back in, put his tools away, and come outside. They each took one of James' tiny hands and let him begin the walk uphill. It was particularly difficult for Martin because he had to bend down so far to hold the little hand in his. "So was Al all right when he left?" she asked.

"Well, you know I can't discuss patients, but I will say he was able to walk out without support," Martin replied.

"Good," she said. "Nasty cut."

"Yes it certainly was," Martin replied. They had no more conversation except for Louisa chatting with the baby as he tried to toddle up the hill. At last Martin's back began to hurt and so he reached down and picked up James. Louisa tried to comfort the little guy as he was definitely not happy that he could not walk for the moment. He struggled and struggled until finally Martin said, "I do not think we will win this battle Louisa. Let's go home and I will put on a pair of my new trousers and play with him on the floor. That is, if you don't mind cooking?"

Louisa could hardly believe he was actually going to wear a pair of the trousers. They had arrived a week ago and had been hanging in the closet ever since. "No, Martin, I am happy to cook," she said. Then she thought, if it will get you out of a suit, I will cook every night for the rest of our lives!

When they went inside, Martin went upstairs and put on a blue pair of the microfiber trousers. He left his shirt on but removed his tie and unbuttoned the top button of the shirt. When he walked downstairs, Louisa was gobsmacked! Unbelievable. Martin looked great. She didn't want to say much though because she was afraid he would just go and take them off. So many years and years of suits would be a habit hard to break. "Are they comfortable Martin?" she finally asked.

"Surprisingly yes," Martin replied. "When they arrived I wasn't sure but the fit is good, the fabric drapes nicely and the hem seems perfect. It has always been difficult for me to find trousers that are long enough, and even when I buy unfinished and have them hemmed, which is most of the time, the tailors often don't do a good job. I am cautiously pleased. Now we will see how they do on these hard floors."

He sat down on the floor in front of the couch and began to help James stack blocks. Then James grabbed the clock toy and gave it to him. Martin pushed the button and the clock began to play. James sat down and began to chew on the clock, giggling and smiling all at the same time. Martin watched the little lips smiling. He listened to the soft giggling and chewing sounds. The clock chimed out another nursery song. Martin tried to discover what he was feeling. Impatient for some quiet time, but then the soft noises weren't so bad, were they? He looked over at Louisa. Lucky, no, blessed, as Luk would say, he felt blessed when he saw his beautiful wife. But not peaceful. He felt no peace. Too many bad memories lately. Why did he ever do that note-taking?

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Louisa was determined to go to worship the next morning. She needed the solemnity, the ritual, the soothing sounds of the choir. She had finally decided to leave James Henry in the nursery because she felt it would be for his own good. There were toys, soft surfaces, and older members of the congregation who loved babies to care for him. He would be fine. Martin did not feel like going to worship but had decided to do so anyway. He, too, felt the need for the time to sit- partly in silence, and partly listening to the pipe organ that he had grown to love. So, even though he didn't particularly want to be around other people, he went with Louisa and James. He helped Louisa drop James Henry off in the nursery and they went into the sanctuary to their usual pew toward the back.

Throughout the service, Martin began to feel more and more uncomfortable, although he didn't know why. He felt overly warm. The hymns seemed to drag. Even when Luk spoke, it was almost as if he was speaking in a foreign language, so hard was it for Martin to concentrate. His heart began to beat a bit faster than normal and he started to think about how many cups of coffee he had drunk that morning. Only one. What was wrong?

Then another memory came to him. He was sitting in a church service with his parents at nine years old. They didn't often attend church services but were there this day to meet a visiting vicar who was a friend of a friend. Making an impression as usual. Martin had brought a pencil in with him and was doodling with it behind a hymnal, out of sight of his parents, or so he thought. The next thing he knew he had dropped the pencil onto the hard floor of the sanctuary where it had made a noise which had sounded like thunder to a young Martin. His parents had both looked over at him and the look he received from his father let him know the place he would be spending Sunday afternoon. When the service was over and they went home, Martin had gone straight to the dark cupboard without a word.

In a flash he was back in the Portwenn church, sitting beside Louisa. She was looking at him, trying to see if he was all right. He seemed to be breathing rather hard and he was very flushed. He tried to bring his breathing under control, mouthed the words "I am fine," to her and turned round to face the front again.

After the service ended, Louisa stood up quickly and asked Martin if he was really fine. When he replied that he was, she said she would go and get James Henry and meet him at the car. Louisa was ready to get away so that she could find out what was really wrong with Martin. She would have to convince him, somehow, to tell her; he was having trouble breathing for goodness sake!

Martin saw Ruth and got in line with her in order to greet Luk. She noticed that Martin had an abnormal pallor and said, "Martin, your color is funny. Are you feeling all right?"

"Yes," Martin replied.

Ruth could tell that her nephew was in no mood to talk so decided to let things go. He had probably had an argument with Louisa. Those two loved each other but that didn't stop them from being chalk and cheese.

Ruth reached Luk and shook his hand and murmured a good morning which Luk returned. Luk then turned to Martin and said, "Oh, Martin, I'm glad you are here today. I was wondering if we could try that lunch again tomorrow. I want to bring you those Crossan DVDs."

Martin remembered how he had shouted at Luk the day before with Al. He had tried to make it up when they got to the surgery by speaking in a nicer tone, but it would probably be a good idea to have lunch. "Certainly, Luk" he agreed.

"Great. I will see you at noon at the pub tomorrow?" Luk asked.

"Yes, see you then," Martin said and went to meet Louisa.


	24. Chapter 24

**Doc Martin and all recognizable characters belong to Buffalo Pictures. This is a work of fiction and is for entertainment only. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Reviews appreciated!**

Chapter 24

Louisa was standing at the car with James Henry when Martin got there. They put the baby in his seat and got in. After they had exited the car park, Louisa turned to Martin. She placed a hand on his leg softly and said, "Martin, I am your wife. I love you. I know that something happened during worship today. You seemed to have trouble breathing and you were very flushed. Please tell me what happened. It frightened me."

Martin stayed quiet and kept driving. Finally he spoke, "There is no need for a fright. If you must know, Louisa, I merely had a bad memory about something that happened in a church once long ago. It hardly matters. I am fine now. It just startled me is all."

"Martin," Louisa began, "it must have been really bad if it caused such physical symptoms. Maybe you would feel better if you told me about it."

"Louisa, I feel fine," he said. "It was just a startle. I am sure that happens to you sometimes."

"Yes, of course," Louisa said, "but it doesn't cause those physical symptoms. Please don't shut me out Martin."

"I am not shutting you out Louisa. I suppose we just have different reactions to being startled. That is perfectly normal. There is no need to discuss this any longer," Martin said.

By this time, they had arrived back at the surgery. Louisa took James out of the car, feeling ready to burst into tears. But she remembered what Natalie had said, took a deep breath, and murmured a prayer for Martin's comfort and for patience to wait.

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Luk arrived at the pub before Martin the next day. He wanted a few minutes to sit and think. Martin is grieving, I am sure, he reminded himself. But obviously the therapy has gone wrong or it is bringing out bad memories for him to have acted the way he did on Saturday. Martin often orders people around. He has to, since he is often the only one who is not out of control in an emergency. But Saturday was a bit over the top. Natalie hinted that I might want to check on him so I hope that having lunch is the right thing to do. I don't want another trip up to the cliff, he thought

Finally Martin walked in, apologizing for being a few minutes late. His last patient had wanted to walk down the hill with him and continue their conversation. He had tried to get away but couldn't and it was too late to call, since he had already left the surgery.

"That's fine, Martin," Luk said. "It was only a few minutes and I have been enjoying the breeze here by the open window. I hope you don't mind but I asked Shawna for a window table. I'll see if I can get her over and we can order. I know you don't have long and I have a meeting at two myself that I am not quite ready for." He motioned to Shawna who brought them some water and took their orders. They waited in silence for a while.

At last Luk reached down for a bag he had brought. "Here are the DVDs I want you to take a look at Martin. I really appreciate it. You might want to start with the first one and then look at only one or two more. No rush. I am just thinking of starting a small group in the fall."

Martin took the bag and by then their food had arrived. Luk tucked in, having had an early breakfast and then been out for a bike ride. Martin, had ordered soup today; it was an unusual choice for him at the pub, but he found he wasn't very hungry.

Luk decided he was going to have to start the conversation and so he asked, "How have you been, Martin? How is the counselor?"

Martin finished a bite of soup and paused. He did not want to discuss this but he knew he must since he and Luk had already talked about the subject. "I have been fine, Luk, thank you. I went to see the counselor twice and then we completed the sessions," he said.

Luk tried to keep a straight face but couldn't and raised his eyebrows. Finally he composed himself and said, "Well Martin I am glad to hear you are well but I must confess I am surprised that you only did two sessions with the therapist. Things like this usually take longer than that," he added.

Martin thought for a moment. How can I say this so that we can move on? "He asked me to do a note-taking exercise - homework as you call it. I did that and then went back and we discussed it at the second session."

Luk now decided he needed to press a bit further. "So, may I ask what the notes were about?"

Martin cleared his throat. "He wanted me to take a moment three times per day to write down any thoughts, memories, that kind of thing, about my parents."

"That must have been a lot of writing, considering that they have just passed away," Luk said.

"Not really," Martin said. "My parents and I had been estranged for quite a while and I can't say that my thoughts strayed to them very often. In fact, I actually stopped..."

"Stopped?" Luk asked.

"If you must know," Martin replied, "I stopped taking the notes within a few days. Futile. Brought up bad memories that I've no time for. If he hadn't given me the assignment, I wouldn't have had the thoughts at all. I find bringing up the past a pointless exercise - complete waste of time."

Luk continued to chew the bite he had just placed in his mouth in order to have time to think. "So, are you saying that you think of your parents only rarely and when you started taking the notes, you really thought it was useless?" he asked Martin.

"Yes." Martin said. "Winchell said that the memories and thoughts were there all the time; that the note-taking just made me pay attention to them. I disagreed. I don't think the thoughts and memories were there. I think the note-taking itself made them appear."

"And you won't be going back then?" Luk asked.

"No. I have no plans to return." Then Martin blurted out the one thing he had meant to keep quiet. "He did suggest something else for me to do, however. He recommended that I write a letter to James Henry."

"What kind of letter?" Luk asked.

"A letter telling him things about himself as an infant, things I think about him...feelings I have. Winchell suggested writing it and possibly keeping it to give to James when he is older, perhaps upon graduation or marriage," Martin replied.

That therapist is a smart guy, Luk thought. This will get Martin thinking hard I bet. "That sounds like a really good idea Martin. You know, I think I will do one too. For Emily, you know. I bet a young woman would love to receive something like that on her wedding day. And it will give me a chance to think back on this first year. It has certainly been a joy. Hard. No sleep. But a joy, nevertheless," Luk said.

"Yes, in some ways I suppose it has," Martin replied.

"Only in _some_ ways Martin?" Luk asked.

"Well, as you said yourself, getting so much less sleep is never easy, there seems to be constant noise, and very little time to oneself," Martin replied.

Luk paused for a while and kept eating. He needed to help Martin here, he thought. This guy needs to be reminded of how very lucky he truly is. He needs to want this to work out. He needs to_ want_ to write this letter. "Martin," Luk said. "You may remember that when we first met I called you the village superman."

Martin nodded.

"Superman is known as the Man of Steel, you know. But I want to remind you of something. Steel has two sides. It has a strong side, which yields very little and can hold up a lot of weight. But it can also have a sharp edge when it is rubbed with a stone. It cuts, Martin. It sounds like you have seen that second side of steel way too often, my friend. Make very sure that when you write James Henry's letter, you give him plenty of the strength so that when he meets the cutting edge he will be strong enough to take it, and he will know who he can depend on to help him when he needs it. You and Louisa are the ones to help him develop the weight-bearing side and to do that, he needs to know exactly how you feel about him.


	25. Chapter 25

**Doc Martin and all recognizable characters belong to Buffalo Pictures. This is a work of fiction and for entertainment only. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Reviews appreciated. **

Chapter 25

Luk drove home in a very thoughtful mood. After he had given his little "speech" about steel, Martin had gotten very quiet. More so than usual, if that was possible. Luk hoped that he hadn't pushed too hard, but he felt strongly that something needed to get Martin to pay attention to how he really felt. About everything. About Louisa, about James Henry, about God. It was so easy for people to learn to stuff their feelings down so far that they could no longer even name them.

He knew this so well from being in ministry. He had seen so many people who felt that they "should" feel a certain way or, worse yet, "never" feel a certain way, and he knew the harm that came from this type of thinking. But the ones who paid _no_ attention to their feelings were really hard to deal with because usually the "stuffing down" came from not being safe with your feelings as a child. Luk was fearful that if Martin couldn't name his feelings about his parents, he would go on hurting and shutting others out. It would eventually hurt all of his relationships and probably even his physical health. This was probably the source of his haemophobia. It is a miracle he was able to get over that, he thought. But he truly is a fiercely strong person in many ways.

He just hoped he hadn't gone too far. Maybe Martin wasn't ready and would shut him out now too. But he really valued Martin's friendship and he and his other friends often challenged each other when they felt the need to do so.

"God of grace," he prayed as he got out of his car, "help Martin to know, somehow, that his feelings are okay. He is safe. You created feelings to help us. Grant him peace and help me to have the words and silences that I need to help him, Amen."

He went into the vicarage and went to his desk to prepare for his meeting. First, however, he wrote a note to himself - "write letter to Emily".

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On Wednesday, Natalie called Louisa after school. "Louisa Ellingham please," she said when the secretary picked up the phone.

Louisa came to the phone. "Hello," she said.

"Hi Louisa, it's Natalie. Just a favor. Could you come by the shop on your way home? Luk wrote a letter that he wants you to give to Martin," she said.

"Ok Natalie. I will see you in a bit," Louisa said and rang off. Wonder what this is about, she thought.

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Louisa walked into the chemist's on her way to pick up James Henry. "Here I am. Postie!" Louisa said. "What is this about, do you know?" she asked Natalie.

Natalie showed Louisa the letter. "It is some kind of letter that Luk wants Martin to look over. I'm not even sure what it is myself," Natalie said.

Both women looked at each other. "What do you think?" Louisa asked.

Natalie shrugged. "I have no idea. Maybe it is something about the doctor for the mission trip next summer. Martin has been trying to help Luk to locate a physician for the group," she said.

"Maybe," said Louisa. She waved as she walked out of the door, thinking hard.

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When Louisa got home, Martin was still in with a patient. She put away her things and went in to play with James Henry. She put the letter on top of the television, out of the reach of little hands. "And how was your day, James Henry? Did you have fun playing with your friends? Will you give Mum a hug?" she asked and held out her arms. James Henry, who had been holding on to the cocktail table, walked himself over, still holding on, and came into Louisa's arms. She hugged him back and smiled. At least one of my men is not shutting me out, she thought.

Martin walked in a few moments later. He, too, got down on the floor. "Just for a moment," he said. "Then I will go and change trousers. How was your day?" he asked Louisa.

She leaned over and gave Martin a kiss. She held up James Henry and said, "My day was fine. James, give Daddy a kiss too," and she held him even closer to Martin. James put a wet baby "kiss" on Martin's cheek. Martin smiled his half smile. "Oh, Martin," Louisa added, "before I forget, there is a letter on top of the television from Luk for you. Natalie asked me to bring it home."

Martin stood up and frowned. He picked up the letter, indicated he would go upstairs and left the room.

"Interesting," Louisa said to James Henry.

Martin went up into the room. He wondered what could be in the envelope. What would Luk say in a letter that he couldn't say in person? Martin opened the envelope, his fingers fumbling as he drew out what was inside. There were two letters. The first was addressed to him, the second to Emily. What on earth? he thought. He sat down on the bed and began to read.

"Martin," the first letter began," First of all let me say that I hope our conversation on Monday was not too pushy. I have several close friends and we often challenge each other. I hope I did not offend but, if I did, I apologize. Perhaps you need to know that I value our friendship very much. You are extremely intelligent, thought provoking to me, and well read. You were brought up in an urban environment which gives you a different perspective from many of the villagers who have never left Portwenn in their lives. I need a friend like you around here. Don't get me wrong; I appreciate this lovely village. It is full of wonderful people but I need the stretching that you and I have between us. We are both learning what it is like to be fathers at the same time and that is also important to me. In many ways, I think we complement each other in our caregiving professions. I hope that I am the one for the villagers to lean on, and I know from what people tell me, that you are the one who challenges them to take care of themselves. They don't always like what you have to say, but they see your dedication. And heaven knows, you have saved many of their lives with your advice and amazing skill. We all appreciate your care Martin."

Martin did not quite know what to think. He had certainly never had a letter like this in his life. What was the real reason for this, he asked himself. There is always a catch. No one feels like this about me except Louisa, and I'm not always sure of that, he thought. He continued to read. "So, if we are still friends, and I surely hope so, I would like for you to read the enclosed letter that I have written to Emily. It is a photocopy, so feel free to write any suggestions you might have. I would just like to know if you think it is like what your therapist recommended? Just let me know when you have a moment. Sincerely, Luk."

Martin sat, stunned. No catch, it seemed. Just a letter from a friend. He needed a moment so he stood up, went to his closet, and pulled out one of the new pairs of trousers. Then he pulled out a polo shirt. He put both on and gazed at himself in the mirror. I feel ridiculous, he thought and then turned back toward the bed. I wonder what Luk would say about this. Then he sat down again and picked up the letter. He re-read it, looking again for some ulterior motive. There was none, not that he could find, anyway. His eyes became rimmed in red.

"Martin," Louisa called from below, "shall I cook tonight or will you?" she asked.

"I will if you don't mind Louisa," he said. He wanted time to think and at least he could do that while he was cooking.

Martin came downstairs and went into the kitchen. Louisa was there with James giving him his supper. James had seen an empty bottle sticking out slightly from the bag that Louisa had left on the couch, grabbed it and started banging it on the cocktail table. She had decided it was time for him to have some real food. When Martin walked in she looked up and couldn't quite control the gasp that came out. "Martin!" she said. "Wow! What has come over you - you look great. Is the polo shirt comfortable?" She added the question in an attempt to play down the shock she knew had been in her voice. She did not want this behavior to stop. Her husband looked sexy in a polo. Then she noticed his eyes. They looked a bit red. What was going on? Be quiet Louisa, she told herself.

"I merely decided that if I had paid for the things I may as well wear them. I feel quite ridiculous if you must know. But they will do for the house, I suppose," Martin said.

Baby steps, Louisa thought.

Martin turned and began to gather the food for the supper. Louisa continued to feed James for a few moments so it was fairly quiet in the kitchen. At last she could contain her curiosity no longer. "So, what was Luk writing about, if I may ask," Louisa said.

Martin gave an internal sigh. He had known this was probably coming. "He wants me to look at something for him," he said in an attempt to brush her off.

"Oh," Louisa said. "Something about the doctor for the mission trip?"

Martin stopped what he was doing. He swallowed hard. He knew it would make Louisa happy if she knew the contents of the envelope and he had made promises to her. "No, Louisa," he finally said. "Luk wants...he wants me to give him advice about a letter he is writing to Emily."

"Why would he be writing to Emily?" Louisa asked. She really wanted to know why Luk wanted Martin's advice too, but she didn't dare ask that question.

"If you must know, Winchell suggested, before I left him, that I write a letter to James Henry about his first year as an infant. Something to keep and give to him upon graduation or marriage. I told Luk about it and he decided to write one to Emily. He just wants me to look at it and see if I think it conforms to Winchell's suggestion," Martin said.

"Hmm, that sounds like a really good idea Martin. Can I help by giving you time to yourself to write your letter?" Louisa asked. "Maybe I will write one too."

"I will find the time," Martin said and kept cooking.


	26. Chapter 26

**Doc Martin and all recognizable characters belong to Buffalo Pictures. This is a work of fiction and for entertainment only. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**This was a hard one to write. Reviews really appreciated.**

Chapter 26

On Saturday, while James Henry was taking an afternoon nap, Louisa decided to pop down to the village for a few "bits and pieces" as she liked to say. Martin, rather than working on a clock, decided he would read the letter that Luk had written to Emily. He brought the entire envelope downstairs and found himself reading the letter that Luk wrote to him once more before he started on the letter to Emily.

Chris Parsons had been Martin's friend for quite a while now and Roger Fenn since Martin had come to Portwenn. But this was something new. Would this friendship last or would Luk finally become just Martin's distant vicar, no more than a formal relationship defined by the parameters of medicine and ministry? The kind of relationship that Martin had noticed a lot between pastors and their "flocks." Martin found that he truly hoped not. He hoped that he and Luk could remain friends, close friends, although for the life of him he couldn't understand it. For goodness sake, he wasn't even sure that he believed in God at times! How could that kind of friendship last with a vicar of all people?

Well, he didn't have all day, did he? He would go ahead and read the letter to Emily. "My dearest Emily," it began. "This past year has brought so much joy to both your mum and me. The day that you were born and we first heard you cry, we were overwhelmed. You are the best blessing that God has ever given to us. Your first year has been very special. We moved to Portwenn in Cornwall, England and have been welcomed so warmly in this tiny seaside village. Your caregiver, Anne, has a daughter named Nicole who has become a special friend to you. Your other little friend is James Henry Ellingham, the son of my friend Martin. James Henry stays with Anne also. As I write this letter, we are coming up to your first birthday and all three of you children are holding on, toddling around Anne's cocktail table and playing with blocks and books, kitchen pans and musical instruments. All three of you all seem to love music. Your eyes light up when I play my guitar."

Martin stopped reading for a moment, picturing Luk with Emily in his mind, both of them smiling and baby-talking to each other. He continued to read. "I can never tell you, Emily, just how much I love you. Just how proud I am that you are my daughter. When your mum and I are at home together with you, just reading to you or eating, or singing and playing, I feel as though I will burst sometimes just from the love I feel for both you and your mum. I thank God for you every day of my life and I look forward to watching you as you grow older. My prayer for you is that you grow into a young woman who, most of all, has a deep realization of how much God loves her. I pray that you find people with whom you can share your life who help you on your journey. My hope is that you always remember that I will love you always, no matter what, with a love deeper than any ocean. God grant you peace, Daddy"

Martin put the letter down beside him. He took a deep breath. In his mind he saw himself, coming in to Louisa in the pub the day that James Henry was born, he heard his mother saying that she had wasted forty years - because of him, he saw Luk raising the shell, the light sparkling on the water when James was baptized. And most of all he saw Louisa, lovely Louisa. Her face close to his as he took down her hair before he made love to her on their wedding night. Her beautiful smile that lit up his life. Her hands as she held James' tiny ones in hers. So much feeling, so much anguish, so much love, so much anger. His thoughts continued to wander as he watched his father pointing to the dark cupboard, Aunty Joan walking out in the field with him to watch the water, the bullies at school holding up his wet sheet, Uncle Phil letting him sit on the tractor, Luk and Natalie laughing with him and Louisa at a pub.

So many different feelings falling out of him like the shower over a waterfall - rushing, overwhelming, almost consuming him. Tears stung his eyes and a sob stuck in his throat, but he caught himself before he fell completely into the chasm. What would Louisa say now? Ruth? Luk? They would tell him to figure out what he was feeling. Now that he was so inundated, he thought he knew. He went into the kitchen and looked in a drawer to grab a pen and a piece of paper. He wrote "James Henry" at the top and held his pen over the paper. Then he quickly marked through James' name and wrote "Martin." He put the pen to paper and began to write quickly - "love, warmth, comfort, rage, helplessness, confidence, shame, happiness, admiration, loathing, fear," and last of all, thinking of Louisa he wrote "attraction."

There they were. On paper. All of the feelings that had gone through his mind after he thought through the memories. Martin remembered being held under water once by a boy at school and how good it felt when he came up and took a deep breath. This is how it had been - as if he was free and out from under a heavy burden. He looked down at the list and realized that now he could write his letter to James Henry. Now that he had named many of his own feelings he felt he could more easily write down the ones he felt for his son.

With lighter steps he went into his consulting room and pulled down his watermarked paper.


	27. Chapter 27

**Doc Martin and all recognizable characters belong to Buffalo Pictures. This is a work of fiction for entertainment only. No copyright infringement is intended.**

Chapter 27

Martin was ready to write. The feelings were fresh in his mind and heart and he knew most of what he wanted to say. He had always been succinct in his writing at university. But, he had written poetry later, and it took much more patience. Today would require the skill of both to be able to say all that he wanted. He thought that perhaps he should get some paper out of Morwenna's printer and start with that. Then he could do the finished letter on the watermarked paper. He walked into the reception area and got several pieces of paper from Morwenna's stack.

He went back in and sat down at his desk. "My Dear James Henry," he began, " When I looked at you and held you for the first time, it was like something that had been missing from my life was finally found. Your mum and I were overjoyed. You were a wonderful child from the first moment. Your mum couldn't stand to let you cry and so we both held you a lot when you were first at home. Some of the most peaceful times I can remember are the ones when I held you at night and rocked you back to sleep. I never told your mum but sometimes I didn't put you back in your crib as quickly as I could have. Sometimes I just sat and put my palm under your tiny head. It always seemed to fit just right in my hand."

"You love music and one of your favorite toys is a clock that Aunt Ruth bought for you in London. It plays a song for every hour and one of the songs is 'The Grand Old Duke of York.' I have noticed that your eyes seem alight with happiness when that particular song plays. You have two little friends, Emily and Nicole, whom you play with each day when your mum is working. Your mum is a wonderful headmistress and she loves her work, but not nearly as much as she loves you and me. Your caregiver is Anne, and your mum says that you grow to love Anne more with each passing day. She feels good when she leaves you with Anne and I trust her, so I can feel good too."

"James, I hope that I can be the father that you need. I hope that I can show you with my words and actions that I love you now and always will. I promise to try and learn from your mum and others what is to be expected of you as you grow older, because right now, I am not always sure. I am so thankful for you. In the words of a song I have grown to understand, 'without you I could never be me.' Watching you grow to be happy and healthy is my fondest desire. All my love, Daddy."

To Martin's surprise, his pen only paused a few times. He hadn't needed the plain paper after all. He carefully rewrote the letter on the watermarked paper and heard Louisa walk in just as he was finishing. "In here," he called to her.

Louisa walked into the consulting room, her hands full of bags, expecting to see Martin hard at work on a clock. He looked up at her and immediately stood. "Can I be of help?" he asked.

"Sure, thanks," Louisa said. Martin took a few of the bags and they both began to walk toward the kitchen. "I need to ask you something," Louisa said at the same time that Martin said, "I need to show you something."

"You first," Martin said to her.

"No, you. It's fine," Louisa said.

Really Louisa, you go first. I can wait," Martin said.

"Well, it's just that while I was in the village I saw some really darling birthday things and it got me thinking about how James' birthday is coming up. I know you don't like big parties so I was wondering how you would feel if we just had Ruth, Natalie, Luk and of course Emily over for dinner and cake? Maybe Anne and her family too. It's just...a first birthday is special and when I was young I..."

Martin interrupted, "I think that will be fine Louisa."

Her mouth dropped open. She had prepared all of her arguments and was ready to present her case and now he was agreeing. Just like that - there must be a catch. "Really?" she asked. She put down her packages on the floor.

"Yes, really," he answered while putting down his bags. "So that's sorted. Just let me know the date you think best and I will check my diary. Now, I want to show you something Louisa. Actually I want to tell you and show you something. Come in here and sit with me please."

Louisa was cautious. What in the world? This was not like Martin. What could have happened while she was out shopping?

They both sat down and Martin pulled up a sheet of paper he had in his hand. He paused and seemed to gather courage. "Louisa, you know that Luk wrote Emily a letter? Well what I didn't say is that he wrote one to me also. I've never had a letter like it. He told me that he really wanted us to be friends and explained why. He told me a lot of things that he sees in me. I don't see them in myself, but I know Luk is fairly perceptive so I have decided, for the time being anyway, to take him at his word." Louisa started smiling and began to interrupt but Martin continued. "I have to say that I have never had a male friend like this - someone who seems to genuinely like me despite all of my...my...shortcomings. So, I read his letter and then I read the letter to Emily. It is beautiful. Just the kind of thing everyone should hear from a parent."

Here Martin stopped and his eyes began to tear slightly. "Reading that letter somehow made me relive so many parts of my life. Some with you and James, some with Aunty Joan, some with my parents." Louisa frowned but Martin caught her hand and kept going. "So many memories flashed through my mind - good and bad - and the feelings that accompanied them...well, I don't want to go into all of that now. But, I have been able to write my letter to James Henry and I would like for you to read it. It says some things that you should know as well. Things I should have said but haven't. There are so many parts of my young life that we need to talk about Louisa, but I want us both to go back to Winchell and talk about them together. I told you once that I can't bear to be without you. And I have realized today that I have been living in the same house, but without you, for quite a while now."

Louisa sat back on the couch still holding Martin's hand. "Oh Martin," she began to sob, "I don't know what to say. I am so happy for you that you have finally realized that you do have a friend, you have more than one actually. But the pain... oh, let me read the letter!" she finished.

Martin carefully handed her the sheet of paper. Then he went and grabbed some tissues and gave them to her so that she hopefully wouldn't cry on the paper. Louisa read through the letter. She began to grab tissue after tissue. Tears, cleansing tears, rolled down her cheeks. She knew that so many of her prayers had been answered in this one afternoon. She could hardly believe the letter. "Martin, I don't know what to say to you," she finally said when the flood began to stop. "How did you remember the words to the song?"

"I looked it up the day Roger sang it. For some reason, poems stay in my mind just the way complicated medical terms do," Martin said.

Louisa went on, " I never knew that you held James that way. I always thought you put him back straight away so that you could get your sleep. I can just picture his head in your hand. Your beautiful, talented hands. And of course you will be the father James Henry needs. Oh Martin, of course I will go back to see Winchell with you. I need to go myself. We both need to clear the air. I love you so much," she finished and looked into his eyes.

Martin could hold back no longer. He took her in his arms and kissed her forehead, her eyes, her soft lips. He began to fumble with the holder of her ponytail. Her beautiful ponytail. He ran his hands down her back and she caressed his soft hair. He began to deepen his kisses and his breath became fast as did hers. He had just started to lean her back on the couch when they both heard a cry on the baby monitor. Martin pulled himself up with a rueful smile. "This is to be continued later, Mrs Ellingham," he said.

"Whatever you say," Louisa replied.


	28. Chapter 28

**Doc Martin and all recognizable characters belong to Buffalo Pictures. This is a work of fiction and is for entertainment only. No copyright infringement is intended.**

Chapter 28

As it had gotten warmer, Martin decided to change and put on one of his polo shirts for the evening at home. Louisa was cooking and when he came downstairs in the azure polo, Louisa smiled and motioned for him to come closer. She put the spoon she was using on the counter and put both arms around his neck. "Blue is definitely your color, Dr. Ellingham, and now that I see you in that shirt, the earlier activities cannot resume soon enough!" she said.

"Your hair can stay out of that ponytail too, Mrs. Ellingham," Martin smiled. "It will only save time later."

Supper was a bit of a hurried affair, as both were eager to finish, play with James Henry and then get him off to bed. After they ate, they let him walk between them up the hill again, thinking he would surely sleep better after some time outside. When they got to the top of the cliff, they walked him over to a large boulder that sat far from the cliff edge. Louisa took care to place both of his hands on the rock and Martin got out some wipes for James' hands when they were finished. Louisa sat on one side of the rock and Martin on the other in order to catch James should he fall. They talked to him playfully as he began to go round and round the stone. As he neared Louisa he let one hand go and she held out her hands to him. Martin held his arms out too in a reflex action, afraid that James was falling. Instead James grabbed back onto the rock, walked back toward Martin...and let go. He took two short steps and fell right into Martin's arms!

"Oh, my little man!" Louisa squealed. "You walked. You walked to Daddy!"

Martin grabbed his son and gave him a hug. "Great James Henry! You walked. You finally found your balance. Wonderful job son," he said and hugged James again. Louisa came over and hugged them both. "Oh Martin," she said and kissed him.

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After they got back to the surgery, James didn't take any more unaided steps but neither of his parents were surprised, and they were both a bit relieved . They knew that the next day's task would involve a lot of rearranging and more childproofing. Martin took over the bathing duties and when James splashed the water, for the first time ever Martin felt free to splash back. Rather than try to get his son to be still and quiet, he encouraged the unrestrained happiness and even laughed when James got his polo shirt very wet.

Once James Henry was finally in bed, Louisa came into the bedroom where Martin was waiting for her. "Dr. Ellingham, where is your clothing may I ask?" she said when she noticed the state he was in underneath the thin bed sheet.

"A little child got me all wet, I had to remove my clothing and just decided to leave it be," Martin said. "Now please remove yours also and come here so that we can take up where we left off."

She did. She lay down and Martin pulled her on top. Her hair fell softly around her shoulders. The light from the lamp shone softly in the room. Louisa began by kissing Martin soundly and then running her hands down his arms. She put her hands in his and he braced her up. He loved to look at her but never could for long without succumbing to her presence. "Louisa, stay there and love me tonight," he said in velvet tones.

On hearing his voice, she put her hands in his hair and kissed him again, then began to nibble her way down to his neck. "Oh, Martin," she purred into his ear, "I am trying to take things slowly but it is difficult." They kissed again, their breathing growing heavy and their hearts beating rapidly.

"Louisa, please, always love me like this. Just like this," Martin said as he was overwhelmed with her, body and soul.

When the moon was high in the sky, it winked down on the two lovers, but even the silver orb's light was dimmed by the one shining from the man who lay with his arm across his beloved wife.

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A few weeks later, there was a dinner party planned at the Ellingham home. The couch had been moved back and two special tables had been placed where it usually sat. A cake from Ted at the bakery sat on the kitchen counter. Louisa was dancing around while she finished cooking, with James on her hip. She was singing and James was babbling to songs on the laptop which she had brought into the kitchen. Martin came down from upstairs, dressed in a pair of his microfiber trousers and the blue polo which Louisa had liked so much.

"You're going to wear your polo shirt for the party?" Louisa asked with a radiant smile.

"Yes," Martin said.

"Well, it is almost time for them all to arrive. Are you ready?" Louisa asked.

"Almost. Time for one more thing though," Martin said. He went over to Louisa's laptop and began fiddling with the keyboard.

"Martin, you aren't going to watch a medical video now are you?" Louisa whined.

"Absolutely not," Martin said. "Now you two come here please."

Louisa heard the opening notes of a Train song. "Martin, what in the world?" she asked as she walked over to him, James still on her hip.

Martin held up his arms in dance position. "I learned at school Louisa," he said as he grabbed her and James both. "it was compulsory and I never got to use my skill."

Luk, Natalie and Emily walked around to the kitchen entrance of the surgery, having knocked and not been heard. When Natalie looked in the window she stopped Luk. The Jacobs family peeked in the window and were surprised to see Martin, Louisa and James Henry Ellngham waltzing in a small circle, even though it didn't fit the beat, to the lovely refrain of "Sing Together."

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**Complete?**

**Author's note: Thanks for sticking with me through this one. I finally got to the scene I planned for the ending. I had intended for this to be a very short story, but the DM "peeps" started telling their own tale. **

**This one is complete for now, but I will leave it as "IN PROGRESS" because... you never know!**

**Please review and as always THANKS for reading!**


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